


Best Intentions

by gorillas_infinity



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, F/F, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, Regret and guilt, Time Travel, don't be mad at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:24:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorillas_infinity/pseuds/gorillas_infinity
Summary: What happens when Max Caulfield can no longer stand the choir of furies in her head? Or the ghost of Chloe Price in the back of her head?





	1. Epilogue is Prologue

_[ ](https://ibb.co/gpsB3T) _

The shades have been drawn. Paper lanterns that once provided ambiance to a wall of photos are crumpled on the floor. The wall is littered with push pins and remnants of torn Polaroid photographs. Nearby, the the remains of an acoustic guitar lie in a splintered heap, dozens of smaller chips scattered across the floor of the room. Dirty clothes pile in front of an increasingly empty closet.

 

Max Caulfield lies on top of disheveled bed covers, staring blankly at the ceiling. Though the latest flow of tears had stemmed itself hours ago, her chest still rises and falls raggedly unable to hold a meaningful breath. Her nose flares, breathing in deeply before she sputters the air back out her mouth.

 

A gentle rap-tap-tap comes through the door. Max remains unstirred.

 

“Max?”

 

Max's eyes close slowly. She inhales deeply and exhales, slowly opening her eyes. She says nothing.

 

“Max? It’s Kate.”

 

Max remains silent.

 

“Can-Can I come in, Max?”

 

No response

 

“I-I'm gonna come in now, Max.”

 

Max, wearing only her pajamas, continues to stare at the ceiling. Her expression is unchanged as the door creaks open. Slowly peeking her head in, Kate's eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark. Looking at Max, she sighs remembering the dark place she was in only a month and a half earlier. She pushes the door until catches on something, giving only a foot or so of clearance. Max winces from the light as Kate shimmies into the room. Closing the door as gently and quietly as she can, Kate finds the source of the door's stickage. She sets Lisa's pot upright, the dehydrated husk crinkling and crumbling In her hands.

 

Looking around the room, she does her best to suppress any hint of dismay at the quickly deteriorating living conditions. Kate holds a hand out toward Max, walking slowly, cautiously even, as if unsure whether the girl in bed was alive or dead. She sits on the edge of the bed, taking Max's limp hand in hers.

 

“I'm sorry about your friend.”

 

Max doesn't respond aloud, but replies in her head, her skyward gaze unbroken

 

_You didn't even know her_

 

“I know how hard it is to lose somebody.”

 

_No you don't, Kate. Not like this._

 

“A-and I know... What it's like...” Kate tries to blink the tears from her eyes to no avail “to feel broken.”

 

_You have no idea how I feel, Kate. You can't. Nobody can._

 

“I don't want you to keep wasting away like this, Max.”

 

Kate looks around for any sign that Max had eaten recently. She hadn't.

 

“When was the last time you ate, Max?”

 

_Why won't you just leave?_

 

“...” Max says nothing and turns her head away from Kate, silently trying to ignore the do-gooder invading her mausoleum.

 

“I-I just want to help you, Max.” Kate pleads with her, “Like you helped me!”

 

After a long silence filled with Kate squeezing Max's hand, Max replies. She doesn't bother turning her head away from the wall. “Leave me alone, Kate.” her voice raspy from weeks of disuse outside of screaming into her pillow, “Just leave me alone.”

 

Kate's eyes well again “Please, Max. I--” She pauses, looking down at Max and then around the room dejectedly. “Okay. I'll just...” She takes a bag of home made tea biscuits from her bag and sets it on Max's nightstand. “I'm here if you need anything.”

 

_Whatever._

 

Kate wipes her face with her sleeve, standing and turning to leave. Max's hand curls back to her stomach like a shriveling vine. Kate opens the door and turns to face Max before leaving.

 

“There are people here who care about you, Max. We miss you.” she exits, the door closing gingerly behind her.

 

Max turns her head back to look at the ceiling again, trying to banish her thoughts again. She tries to focus on breathing.

 

_In..._

 

_Out..._

 

_In..._

 

_Out..._

 

Continuing this exercise until the already dim light in the room begins to fade, Max lazily reaches to her nightstand. After a few tries, her fingers manage to drag a biscuit from the bag, knocking several more onto the floor. One rolls underneath the bed. One smacks the floor, breaking into pieces, throwing crumbs. Another falls on top of it, its fall cushioned. Max sighs.

 

_I don't care. What's the point?_

 

She nibbles until nearly half the biscuit is gone, tossing it back on top of the bag. She resumes her thought clearing exercise from the beginning until she drifts to sleep in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

“Max!” a voice reverberates in her ears

 

Thunder crashes, lighting blinds Max. She looks out over the tumultuous sea. It's the storm, on a collision course with Arcadia Bay. Her eyes rapidly focus and refocus, looking for the voice's owner.

 

_CHLOE_

 

“This is the only way,” Chloe says, putting the butterfly picture into Max's hands. "You could use that photo... to change everything right back to when you took that picture. All that would take... is for me to” she trails off, unable to heave the words out of her chest. “There's so many more people in Arcadia Bay who should live way more than me.”

 

“I won't trade you!” Max shouts over the roar of the storm

 

“You're not trading me! Maybe you've just been delaying my real destiny.” She looks out over the town, turning back to Max. “I know I've been selfish. But for once, I think I should accept my fate. _Our_ fate!”

 

“Chlo-e!” Max sobs, her heart being wrenched from her chest

 

“Max, you finally came back to me this week and you did nothing but show me your love and friendship. You made me smile and laugh like I haven't done in years!” She grabs Max by the shoulders. “Wherever I end up, in whatever reality, all those moments between us were real. And they'll always be ours. No matter what you choose, I know you'll make the right decision.”

 

“Chloe. I can't make this choice!”

 

“No, Max. You're the only one who can.”

 

Max takes the photo in her hands, focusing on it. Her vision begins to vibrate as her consciousness is transported through time and space.

 

“Get that gun away from me, psycho!” Chloe screams

 

**BANG**

 

Nathan Prescott bolts from the room. Max scrambles to her feet running over to Chloe.

 

“I'm so sorry Chloe! I'm so sorry!”

 

“Max? What are you--” Chloe gasps and coughs up blood. “I don't wanna die, Max!”

 

Max and Chloe both try to apply pressure to the wound, but there's too much bleeding.

 

“Max!” Chloe screams reverberating in Max's head

 

“Max!” the frame in time repeats

 

“Max!”

 

* * *

 

**BANG BANG BANG** A hand pounds on the door

 

“Max!”

 

Max's eyes shoot half open, the dark rings under her eyes letting anybody she lets see her know just how little sleep she gets lately.

 

“Max Caulfield! Open this door!” the voice booms from outside

 

_What does she want?_

 

The door swings open. Max squints from the light the sun is casting into the hallway. Victoria Chase stands tall in the doorway, her body taut like a spring. Max eyes her without moving her head, visually tracking as Victoria stomps over to the bedside.

 

“Get up, Max.”

 

Max stares at her silently.

 

“I said,” Victoria pauses as she grabs Max's arm and tries to pull her to a seated position. “Get up!”

 

Max tries to push Victoria away, weak from poor nutrition and atrophy. Victoria stands up straight and gives the room a visual once over before stepping to the nearly empty closet. She looks inside.

 

“Where are all your clothes?” She looks around the room again, finally looking down at the pile in front of her. “Oh.”

 

Max stares at her with disdain building under her tired masque.

 

Victoria picks out a few articles that appear to be less dirty, loosely forming a coherent outfit, tossing them at Max. “Get dressed.”

 

The clothes land on Max's lap, the shirt rebounding off her face without phasing her.

 

“Ugh,” Victoria sighs “Come on, Caulfield. Put on your big girl pants and let's go. I'm taking you to class.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Max replies, deadpan

 

“Because I'm not going to just sit here and let you waste your talent.”

 

Max's face for once does not betray her inner thoughts _She thinks I'm talented?_

 

“Shit” Victoria mutters under her breath. She turns to close the door. “Nobody else can hear me say that.”

 

_Of course not. Narcissism suits you, Victoria._

 

“So you do think I'm talented?” Max's voice spills into the air scraping her on vocal chords

 

“I-” Victoria's face starts to redden even in the low light.

 

“Look. You have talent, okay? You're probably the only other person at Blackwell that even comes close to _moi_ ” she brings her hand to her chest with a flourish. She starts back toward the bed. “But you won't for long if you just keep lying here moping in the dark.”

 

_Oh how sweet of you_ Max's internal voice says sarcastically

 

Victoria plops down on the bed facing away from Max, “Look. I'm sorry about Chloe. I really am.”

 

Max turns to look at the back of Victoria's head.

 

“I don't know how you knew her, but I can tell why you liked her. Even with her and I clashing heads, it was easy to see how you... and Rachel Amber... were drawn to her.”

 

Just as Max shifts on the bed closer to Victoria, Victoria stands up and turns around.

 

“But they're gone, Max. They both are.” she says matter-of-factly, hands on her hips “They're gone and all we have left is the pictures and the memories.” Her eyes trail upwards to the ravaged photo wall, her mouth curling in disappointment. She speaks in a hushed tone “Well maybe just the memories.”

 

_Pictures and memories..._

 

_Pictures and memories..._

 

“So come on, Max. Let’s go live our lives.”

 

Max swings her feet out of bed. “Fine, Victoria. You win.”

 

“No, come on. We have to-- wait what?”

 

“I said you win. Just...” She grabs the clothes Victoria threw on the bed “Give me a minute to change.”

 

Victoria raises her eyebrow suspiciously. “Okay... I'll be just outside. If you're not out in five minutes, I'm coming back to drag you to class.”

 

Max nods and Victoria slips out the door.

 

As soon as the door clicks shut Max tries to stand up and collapses to the floor, her body gaunt and weak.

 

_Pictures and memories_

 

_Where is it?_

 

Max roots through her dresser drawers, unable to find what she's looking for

 

_Dammit_

 

She pulls herself to her computer desk, rifling through those drawers as well, the laptop crashing onto the floor as she looks underneath.

 

_Wait! I've got it!_

 

Max manages to force her body over to her pile of clothes. She digs through tossing clothes this way and that until she finds her favorite pair of jeans. Her hand jams into the pocket and pulls out a crumpled picture of a blue butterfly on a bucket.

 

_I can do this._ **_This_ ** _is my talent._

 

Victoria bangs on the door “Are you ready yet?”

 

“Just a minute!” Max coughs out, her voice still weak

 

Max flattens out the photo as much as possible and stares at it. The photo ripples in the frame.

 

“Come on, Max!” Victoria pounds the door. “I swear to god!”

 

Max continues to focus on the picture, it vibrates faster and faster

 

“That's it, I'm coming in!”

 

The door handle swings down in the same moment that Max achieves peak focus, the room's sights and sounds rushing away as she feels herself warp through time for the first time in nearly six weeks.


	2. The Road to Hell

Max inhales sharply, bracing herself against the bathroom stall. Her eyes flutter to life, watching the blue butterfly flap its wing and make its way out the cracked window. Inspecting the walls, she remembers all too clearly the horror here. Pulling a pen from her bag, she scrawls a message on the back of the photo. “ **FAILSAFE: DO NOT DESTROY** ” Max flattens herself against the stall when she hears Nathan Prescott enter.

 

“It's cool, Nathan. Don't stress. You're okay, bro. Just count to three,” Nathan says to himself, out loud, leaning over the sink. “Don't be scared. You own this school. If I wanted, I could blow it up. You're the Boss.”

 

_Dammit, Nathan. I'd pity you if you weren't such a twisted son-of-a--_

 

Max's thought is cut short as Chloe slinks into the bathroom.

 

“So what do you want?” Nathan asks her

 

“I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say.” Chloe says, walking down the row of stalls, lazily checking the first few for eavesdroppers. “Now, let's talk bidness.”

 

“I got nothing for you.” he sneers

 

“Wrong. You got hella cash.” the punk barks back

 

“That's my family, not me.”

 

“Oh boo hoo, poor little rich kid.” Chloe mocks, “I know you been pumpin' drugs n' shit to kids around here.” she slides between Nathan and the door, slamming her hands on the side of the sink. “I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines--”

 

Max spins around from behind the end stall

 

“ _Excuse_ me,” Max says “This is supposed to be the girls' bathroom.”

 

“What the?” Nathan cocks his head

 

“Nice perimeter check, dumbass.” Chloe snaps at Nathan

 

“Nathan, I think you should go before I tell somebody you were in here.” Max squints at him

 

He looks at Max, a scowl forming as his surprise gives way to rage.

 

“Whatever.” he says after a moment. He looks back and forth between Max and Chloe, shaking his head. “Bitches.” he says under his breath flinging the door open and rushing out.

 

Chloe sighs and slams her fist on the sink. She turns sharply toward Max.

 

“What's the big idea, kid? I was trying to squeeze that douche--” she pauses, looking at Max's face quizzically “Max?”

 

Max's eyes begin to tear up. She reaches across herself to hold her own elbow. “Chloe...” breathlessly escapes her mouth

 

Chloe begins walking toward Max as the orange bubble crashes down around them, pulling Max back from whence she came.

 

Opening her eyes, Max is welcomed by pitch blackness. Lying on side, her eyes are drawn to the glowing red numbers of a clock radio.

 

_Seven o'clock?_

 

Max sits up, determining herself to be in a bed, the covers heavy on her. The smell of mildew and sweat permeate her nose. Adjusting to the dark, she hears the rustling of plastic and sees a faint outline across the room. A lighter ignites, the flash obscuring Max's vision. She blinks rapidly, trying to push the burning light out, hearing fabric rubbing on fabric. The hot cherry on the tip of the cigarette blooms faint red light illuminating a familiar face.

 

_Chloe_

 

In silence, Max hugs her knees wondering where she is. Her eyes snap to Chloe every time the punk took a drag. Chloe pulls the cigarette from her mouth and crushes it into an ashtray on the table.

 

“Chloe?” Max asks to the darkness

 

“Shit. I didn't wake you up, did I?”

 

“No. You're fine.”

 

“Good...” Chloe trails off “It’s been... too long since I've seen you sleep like that.”

 

Max's cheeks burn, her voice shaking out “I'm just glad you're here, Chloe.”

 

Chloe sniffles. “You too, Max.”

 

Max reaches toward the clock, feeling around on the nightstand in the darkness. Navigating up the stem of a lamp, she fingers the switch and turns it on. The room is bathed in an orange incandescent glow. Max absorbs her surroundings. She finds herself wrapped in a dated floral comforter. The floor is blanketed in a ratty green carpet covered in white speckles. The once white walls have begun to yellow, tar collecting in the upper edges, damage from years of smoking. She looks over to Chloe.

 

 _I did it._ Max turns her head smiling _She's alive._

 

The smile falls away from Max's face. Chloe sits half cocked in a shabby chair, its fabric fraying and coming undone around the edges. Even from across the room, Max could see the girl's eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks damp with tears. Dark blonde roots have begun to peek through the vibrant blue dye job. Chloe snorts, trying to wipe away the tears and put on a brave face.

 

“Chloe?” Max asks, the concern in her voice resonating through the air.

 

“I'm—I'm fine, Max. Just couldn't sleep.”

 

Max's own eyes begin to tear up “Chloe...”

 

“No, come on.” Chloe leans deeply, pulling herself out of the chair toward Max. She stalks towards the smaller girl, plopping down next to her. “Don't cry, Max. I'm fine.”

 

Max launches herself at Chloe, wrapping her arms around her. “Chloe!” she sobs “I thought I lost you!”

 

Chloe wraps her arms around Max tightly, pulling her close. “I'm right here, Max.” She sniffles, “I'm right here.”

 

“ _Suck it up. You have to be strong for her, Price._ ” Chloe thinks, kissing Max on the forehead

 

“I can't—I can't—“ Max sobs, her cheek pressing into Chloe's chest, “I can't lose you again.” Max wails

 

Chloe strokes the girl's back, trying to comfort her “Shh, shh. It was only a dream.” she says, silently pondering on whether she was trying to comfort Max or herself.

 

Max clings to Chloe, soaking her chest in tears. Her hands wrap around the small of Chloe's back, groping at the flesh as if she could pull the girl any closer. Chloe continues to pump gentle coos and sweet nothings into Max's ear, face turning red realizing that only her flimsy tank top separates Max's flesh from her own.

 

_Its okay Max. You did it. You saved her. You don't need to cry._

 

Max does her best to collect herself, anchoring herself in Chloe's existence. The feeling of Chloe's cool chest against her hot face soothes Max. She inhales deeply, Chloe's scent filling her. The corners of Max's lips begin to curl into a smile as she breathes Chloe in again. The punk's natural aroma intermingles with stale sweat and fresh smoke, overwhelming Max's senses with a sickly sweet smell that is uniquely _Chloe_.

 

 _Chloe..._ Max's head spins dreamily

 

“Chloe...” Max exhales, nuzzling into the larger girl

 

“Max...” Chloe whispers, smiling through the tears

 

Max's hands find their way further up Chloe's back, her weeping subsiding. Chloe's heart beats wildly in her chest, thoughts of their first kiss in Chloe's bedroom racing through her mind.

 

_This feels good._

 

Max drags her face along Chloe's chest into the crease between her neck and shoulder, her breaths puffing on Chloe's neck. Their chests press together as Max leans in.

 

_This feels... right._

 

A hushed “M-Max?” quietly escapes Chloe's mouth

 

_I need this._

 

Max kisses Chloe's neck, leaning in further as an emphatic “Mmmm” hums against the punk's skin.

 

“Oohhh...” Chloe swoons, her eyes closing, her lips parting

 

_I need Chloe._

 

Max tucks her legs underneath herself, pressing even more into Chloe, inhaling sharply as she pushes Chloe over. They sink into the bed, their bodies as one. Max brings her lips to Chloe's, locking onto them in an impassioned kiss.

 

Without thinking Chloe's lips find rhythm with Max's. Her hands brush down Max's back, holding at her hips. Only now does Max realize she's not wearing a shirt of her own.

 

Max's hands find their way over Chloe's shoulder blades and run through her bluenette hair. Coming up for breath, Max pants “I love you, Chloe.” before she lays a barrage of kisses on the girl's cheek and neck.

 

“I love you too, Ma--oooh.” Chloe's speech slurs into a moan.

 

Max continues her onslaught onto Chloe's neck, panting as she goes, “I... Need... You... Chloe...”

 

Chloe turns her head to give Max all the room she wants and more. “I'm not going anywhere, Max.”

 

Max suddenly stops, lying on top of Chloe. She pants on Chloe's neck. Her voice almost breaking, a feeble “I missed you.” escapes Max's throat.

 

Memories of the lonely years they spent separated flash through Chloe's mind. “I... I missed you too...”

 

“I just want to...” she sniffles “Feel close to you again.”

 

Chloe giggles softly, Max still pinning her to the sheets. “How much closer could we be?”

 

Max's hands meet Chloe's hips, sliding up sides. Her palms trail on Chloe's supple skin, thumbs hooking the bottom of Chloe's tank top. Max arches off of Chloe, look into her face silently asking with her eyes “ _Is this okay?_ ” Chloe's muted grin and twinkling eyes are answer enough. Max peels the sweat and tear soaked top from Chloe's body.

 

Heart thumping in her chest, Max pulls herself back into Chloe's warmth, letting out a deep, pleasurable sigh as their bare torsos meet. She smiles hard enough to hurt, bringing her chest flush with Chloe's, relishing the unbridled intimacy, yearning to feel Chloe's heartbeat in her own chest.

 

Chloe palms Max's head with one hand, kissing her cheek softly. She turns Max's head, kissing her passionately, her other arm wraps around Max's lower back, squeezing her in. She knows exactly what Max needs in this moment.

 

* * *

 

Max breathes raggedly but smiles peacefully for the first time in memory, her head nuzzled into Chloe's breast. Chloe cradle's Max's head, her chin and mouth in Max's hair locked in a lasting show of affection. They each bask in the other's after love glow.

 

A phone beeps on the nightstand, drawing an exaggerated pout from Max.  
  
"Mood ruined" she grumps, peeling herself from Chloe's chest. She crawls up the bed reaching for her phone and plops playfully on her belly.  
  
Chloe yawns, swinging her legs off the bed and reaching for her shirt. "Probably for the best. We need to get moving."  
  
_Get moving?_  
  
Max opens the text  
  
Mom: I hope your trip is going well! Your father and I have a surprise for you girls when you get back.  
  
Max watches Chloe shimmy into her pants and boots. She lights up another cigarette, reminding Max of what she saw a few hours ago.  
  
"Chloe?" Max says "Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine, Max. Why?" she says curtly  
  
"I just mean..." She grabs her own arm nervously "Earlier… You were crying…”

 

“I'm _fine_.” Chloe growls

 

“O-Okay…” Max squeaks, holding herself tighter

 

Chloe sighs, exasperated, rolling her head on her on her shoulder toward Max. “Oh c’mon. I didn't mean to-” Chloe wraps her arms around Max. “I'm sorry.” Max feels Chloe's body shake along with with her voice. Chloe pulls out of the hug as quickly as she went in. “You should get dressed. I'll be outside.” she says walking across the room. The door rattling the wall as it slams.

 

Max gets find what she presumes to be their “luggage”, a small backpack stuffed with clothes that smell of the kind of industrial detergent used in second hand stores. From it's shallow depths she wrangles a plain navy blue shirt and picks her jeans up from the floor. She slides them up, something crinkling in the pocket. She pulls a crumpled Polaroid with “ **FAILSAFE: DO NOT DESTROY** ” written  on the back. She quickly returns it to its home. Slinging the backpack over one shoulder and her messenger bag and camera bag over the other, she heads out the door.

 

Shielding her eyes from the daylight, Max surveys her surrounding. She finds herself looking out from the second story of a motor lodge. To her left she sees Chloe bent deeply at the waist leaning over the rail a couple dozen feet away. Chloe flicks her cigarette away as Max approaches.

 

“All set?” Chloe asks

 

Max looks down at the bags hanging off of her. “I think so?”

 

“Good. Let's blow this shithole.”

 

She pulls the bag of clothes from Max's shoulder as they head down the stairs and throws it into the back of the truck. Max climbs in the cab and the truck roars to life, holding onto the door as they swing out of the lot.

 

The duo drives straight into a nearby town, the first sign of civilization on the lonely country highway.

 

 _Rexville, Alabama._ Max reads the welcome sign. _Alabama?_

 

A few minutes of silence later, Max turns to Chloe “So… Alabama, huh?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Chloe assure her “We’ll be long gone before we get Ned Beatty’d in the woods.”

 

Max recoils, disgusted. “You are so gross.” she laughs.

 

“Yea, I know.” Chloe chuckles, her face turning serious as she directs Max’s attention straight ahead “We’re here.”

 

Choe turns at the sign for “Greene Pastures Mobile Home Community”, the truck bouncing on the gravel drive. Max grows increasingly uncomfortable as they drive deeper into the trailer park. Eventually they come upon a run down looking mobile home, the truck sliding on the gravel as it comes to a halt.

 

“This shouldn’t take too long.” Chloe shakes her head, grabbing a large velvet bag from the middle of the seat. “You should probably stay here.” Max nods in agreement and watches as Chloe ascends a ramshackled wooden ramp to a screened in porch and goes in. Max is visibly confused, rolling down the window hoping to hear something. An elderly man and woman hobble out onto the porch, each giving Chloe a hug.

 

_What is going on?_

 

Max watches the three of them sit down and talk. She tries to angle her ears to hear what they’re saying to no avail, resigning to watching in silence. A few minutes later, Chloe shoots up out of her seat.

 

“Take that back!” Chloe yells

 

The woman wave her hand through the air flippantly as she says something. The man is growing visibly angry.

 

“My dad was a good man!”

 

The man stands, raising his own voice. “Our daughter would still be alive if it wasn’t for that no good--” His voice cuts out as Chloe pushes his back into his seat.

 

“FUCK YOU!” Chloe shouts back, storming out of the porch. She slams the screen door clean off its hinges. “And Mom’s coming with _me_!” she shouts over the hood, climbing back into the truck, the bag landing back in the middle. Max looks down at the bag, the drawstring coming open a bit, and sees a bag of ashes inside.

 

Gravel flies as Chloe slams on the gas, desperate to get as far away as fast as possible. She grits her teeth the whole drive back to the main road. After a long, awkward silences she punches the wheel.

 

“I knew this was going to be a bad idea.”

 

“What happened back there, Chloe?”

 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Mom’s parents couldn’t stop shittalking Dad for five minutes.”

 

“Chloe…” reaches for the girl, resting her hand on Chloe’s thigh

 

“Whatever.” Chloe says

 

Unsure what to say, Max leaves her hand on Chloe’s leg. Neither says a word as they pull into a fuel station. Max uses the restroom while Chloe fills the tank. Climbing back in, Chloe lights up a cigarette.

 

“So… What now?” Max asks, trying her best to be respectful of the situation

 

“Now we drag ass back to your parents’ house.” She puffs from her cigarette. “Woo road trip.” She twirls her finger in the air sarcastically.


	3. Paved with Good Intentions

The engine of Chloe’s truck roars like a dragon as Chloe pushes it to highway speeds. Max ponders where they might be as the hours go by. Using signs that mark the mileage to major cities, she slowly gets an idea of where they are.

 

After nearly twelve hours of driving, Max convinces Chloe to stop at a motel outside of Wichita Falls. The duo collapses on the single twin bed as quickly as they shut the door, falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

 

Daylight breaks, waking Max who had settled into the crook of Chloe’s arm. She looks up at her bluenette love to see her cheeks damp with tears. A kiss on the cheek wakes Chloe.

 

“Are you okay?” Max inquires

 

“I’m… fine, Max.” Chloe bites her lip “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you…”

 

Max pushes down her doubt in Chloe’s words until they become nothing but an inkling, wrapping Chloe in a hug. With little ado, they hit the road again.

 

Twelve hours later they arrive in Cheyenne, Wyoming and stop at the first motel they find. Chloe carries their bags to the room despite Max’s offer to help.

 

“You seem pretty tired. Want me to drive tomorrow?” She asks Chloe, the door handle beeping as she slides the keycard.

 

“Nah. I’m good. Truck’s got a little shake rattle and roll anyway.” she says, putting the bags down. “Gotta know how to _finesse_ it.” Chloe cuts her hand across the air to punctuate how smooth an operator she is.

 

Max giggles “Are you sure you’re using that word right?”

 

Chloe wraps one arm around her and pulls her into a kiss “Dork.” She laughs pushing Max onto the bed. She jumps in after her “Geronimo!”

 

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Max reaches for Chloe but finds only empty space. Realizing the bags are gone, she bolts for the door. She sighs, holding her chest seeing the truck is still right outside the door. Peering over the hood she sees Chloe inside, curled up in the driver’s seat. As Max approaches the door she realizes that Joyce’s ashes are in Chloe’s lap, wrapped in her arms.

 

“Chloe?” she whispers through the open window

 

“Wha-huh?” Chloe shakes awake and looks at Max “Oh…” Her voice carries dejection through the air. “Hey Max.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yea… Just couldn’t sleep again. Came out here to think. I guess I fell asleep talking to Mom.”

 

One vending machine breakfast later, the girls are back on the road. Another nine or so hours later they pull up to a seedier-than-usual no-tell motel outside Twin Falls, Idaho.

 

“Is this the right place?” Max asks as she cranes her neck looking for other hotels

 

Chloe pulls out her wallet and looks inside. “Blackwell’s handicap fund no longer runneth over.”

 

Max can't hide the look of concern on her face.

 

“It’s just to get out of sleeping in the truck, Maxers. It'll be _fine_.”

 

Tiring of their exploration of anything within walking distance of the truck, the girls decide to check into a room for the night. As she had done the previous three nights, Max falls asleep wrapped in Chloe’s arms.

 

Several hours later Max is woken by a commotion in the hallway.

 

“Chloe?” Max drools groggily, reaching for her companion. She pats the bed several times, shooting awake upon the realization that Chloe is gone. She grabs the room key off the nightstand and ventures out into the hall.

 

“Stupid fucking--UGH!” she hears Chloe from down the hall and around the corner. Sounds of flesh and metal fill the hall backing Chloe's grunts. Max stalks down the hall with Chloe's profanities whizzing by at record speed. Rounding the corner, Max lays eyes on Chloe's back.

 

“Stupid fucking machine!” Chloe screams “Just give me my stupid fucking Coke!” She pounds both fists against the plastic picture of a giant can of cola until it cracks. “Goddammit!” she sputters overwhelmed with emotion as she falls to her knees before the machine, its lights now flickering from the damage. She turns to sit with her back against the machine, sobbing into her hands.

 

Max holds onto the corner of the hall. “Chl--Chloe?” she whimpers

 

“M-Max?!” Chloe looks up through her fingers

 

Max inches out from behind the corner, beginning to cry. “Chloe…”

 

“Go back to the room, Max!” Chloe barks, wiping her face on her forearm.

 

Max reaches her hand out to Chloe “Chloe, what’s wrong?” her lips quivers holding back tears

 

“Nothing! I’m fine! Just go back to the room.”

 

“Chloe can you talk to me!?”

 

A man pokes his head out of a nearby room “Is everything okay here?”

 

Chloe picks up a piece of trash from the floor and whips it at him “Mind your own _fucking_ business! DICKHEAD!” The garbage narrowly misses his head as he pulls back into his room like a turtle. “Fuck this.” Chloe mutters, pushing herself to her feet. She stomps past Max and out the double glass doors. She leans over the railing and lights up a cigarette. Unsure how to handle Chloe like this, Max holds her elbow, looking at the ground nervously before returning to the room.

 

Max lies in the darkness silently sobbing for what seems like forever before Chloe returns. With her back to the door, Max hears Chloe kick off her boots and walk toward the bed. She lies behind Max’s back, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl’s waist. Max can feel the heat and moisture radiating from Chloe’s face.

 

“I’m sorry, Max.”

 

“What happened, Chloe?”

 

“I-I…” Chloe stutters and trails off, looking away from Max

 

Max squeezes Chloe’s hands in hers.

 

“Max I--I can’t.” her voice breaks and hushes itself

 

“You can’t what?”

 

“I-I can’t stop…can’t stop seeing them.”

 

Max turns her head in Chloe’s direction. “Who?”

 

Chloe is silent for a moment. “Everyone…” she finally says, her voice heavy with brevity

 

“Chloe…” Max begins to turn herself in Chloe’s arms

 

“Everyone who died when we let Arcadia Bay get fucking _glassed_.” Chloe grits her teeth, trying to maintain her facade of strength.

 

“Oh, Chloe.” Max turns herself all the way around in Chloe’s arms, wrapping her own around the blue haired angel, burying herself in Chloe’s chest.

 

“My mom… Frank… David... “ Chloe says coldly “Rachel’s parents… I don’t know how many more people.” She grimaces her face trying to fight back the sadness. “They’re all gone, Max.”

 

Max begins to sob “I’m sorry, Chloe.” Her nails dig into Chloe’s back. “I’m so sorry!” She buries head face in Chloe’s chest in shame. “I couldn’t trade you.”

 

Chloe rubs the top of Max’s head with her chin. “I know…” She kisses Max’s forehead. “I know…”

 

Eventually Max and Chloe fall asleep, clinging to each other the way they often do: hoping that if they held onto each other hard enough that nothing would tear them apart.

 

* * *

 

The skies gloom over the duo as they leave the no-tell motel in the morning. Max, worried that it may rain, insists on riding with their bags on her lap.

 

“Buckle up.” Chloe commands. “It’s a nine hour straight shot to Seattle and we’re only stopping for gas.”

 

Max sloppily salutes with a goofy smile “Aye aye, captain!”

 

Over the next few hours the weather takes a turn for the worse. The closer they get to Seattle the stronger the rain seems to come down. Idle chit chat and the radio fills the air. During their second fuel stop they both get out to stretch.

 

“Hey, Chloe?”

 

“Yea Max.” Chloe replies curtly

 

“You look pretty tired. How about I drive for a while?”

 

“It’s fine, Max. We’re making great time.” She chugs an energy drink, crushing the can in her hand.

 

“Are you sure? It just seems like--”

 

“I’m driving.” Chloe cuts her off, her squinting accentuating the increasingly visible rings under her eyes.

 

They climb back into the truck and head off on the final leg of their journey. After several hours of aggressive driving they arrive at the hotel.

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Chloe asks, awash in genuine confusion

 

“Yea. This is the address.” Max confirms, putting her phone in her pocket.

 

“Your parents are too much.”

 

“I know…”

 

Chloe parks the truck and they climb out, running as fast as they can to the doors. By the time they reach the lobby both girls are soaked to the bone. The snooty desk clerk looks down his nose at them.

 

“May I _help_ you?” he says

 

“Umm… Yea.” Max says “Reservation for Caulfield? Maxine?”

 

The clerk types on his computer. “Ah yes.” He looks Chloe up and down. “Will you be needing _two_ keys?”

 

* * *

 

Chloe steps out of the bathroom draped in a fluffy white robe. “Okay. That shower is hella awesome.”

 

“I know, right?” Max says, sitting on the bed in her own robe. “So my parents said we should treat ourselves. You wanna hit the spa?”

 

“I wanna hit the sack, Jack.”

 

Max scoots to the side and pats the bed next to her. “Your sack, madam.”

 

Chloe hops onto the bed and puts Max in a headlock. “You’re too damn cute, you know that?”

 

“Haha let go!” Max giggles

 

Chloe lets her go before pulling her back in and wrappin one arm around the brunette.

 

“You’ll never guess what they have on demand.” Max grins

 

“What?”

 

“Hawt Dawg Man!”

 

“No way!” Chloe laughs

 

“The movie!”

 

“But that was only released in Japan!”

 

“Apparently not. You wanna watch?”

 

“Is Hawt Dawg Man covered in mustard?”

 

Max snuggles under Chloe’s arm as the movie starts. Despite her best efforts, she drifts to sleep holding onto Chloe’s side. After the credits roll Chloe kisses Max’s head.

 

“Sleep tight you beautiful weirdo.” She whispers, turning out the light.

 

* * *

 

A deafening blast of thunder shakes Max from her sleep. A gust of wind roars through the room, chilling her to the bone. Wrapping her arms around herself she stands, noticing the bed is empty.

 

_Chloe!_

 

The curtains billow in the wind, the double doors to the balcony standing wide open. In the flash of lightning Max can barely make out Chloe’s form. She runs over to entrance to the balcony.

 

“Chloe!” she shouts, nearly drowned out by a roar of thunder

 

“I’m sorry, Max!” Chloe sobs, her voice straining. “I’m so sorry!”

 

“Chloe come back inside! I can help you!”

 

Chloe stands with her back pressed against the railing. The rain beats on both their faces. “I’m sorry, Max. I wanted to be stronger for you! I wanted to be there for you! How can I help you when I can’t even help myself?”

 

“We can help each other, Chloe! Please! Just come back inside!”

 

Chloe runs a hand through her hair, gripping it once her fingers are fully enveloped. “I can’t sleep, Max! I can’t stop seeing them! I can’t get away!”

 

“Chloe please!” Max cries “I need you!”

 

“I’m sorry, Max!” Chloe heaves “I can’t live like this! I need to get them out of my head!”

 

“CHLOE!” Max screams as Chloe boosts herself onto the rail and throws herself backwards, plummeting some ten stories to the ground below. “NO!” Max screams louder, dropping to her knees.

 

She raises her hand, urging time to reverse its course for the first time since entering this timeline. Chloe flies back over the railing, then her feet touch the ground again. She stays in the same place until Max’s powers hit the wall.

 

_Shit. I just woke up. I can’t go back any further!_

 

“Max?” Chloe yells over the thunder “Go back inside! I have to do this!”

 

“Chloe please! I need you!”

 

“I need to sleep, Max! I need to stop whatever’s happening in my head!” She runs her other hand through her hair this time.

 

“Chloe I can’t lose you again!”

 

Chloe’s face contorts with pure sorrow. “Maybe I was never yours to lose.” Again she lifts herself onto the balcony railing, throwing herself backwards to her doom.

 

Max rewinds again, as far back as she can.

 

Again, Chloe plunges from a Seattle hotel balcony.

 

Max rewinds

 

Chloe jumps

 

Max rewinds

 

Chloe jumps

 

With each rewind, more and more blood flows from Max’s nose. Each rewind goes a shorter and shorter distance back in time. She holds her hand in the air, flexing her fist as if holding onto the fabric of time itself, holding it still as she makes her way to Chloe in the frozen timescape. By this point, Max can only rewind far enough back that Chloe has already pulled herself onto the railing. Max collapses, the time resuming its normal flow. She falls to her knees in front of Chloe, wrapping her arms around the suicidal woman’s left leg. In the same instant, Chloe flings herself backwards again. Max crumbles, flopping on her back clutching Chloe’s empty boot to her chest as she blacks out.

 

* * *

 

“Chloe!” Max yells, shooting forward. She’s held back by an IV sticking out of her arm. A man in slacks and suspenders who had been dozing in a nearby chair jumps to his feet when she yells.

 

“Whew,” The man sighs relieved. “You’re awake.”

 

Max’s head bobs, her eyes turning wildly in their sockets trying to process everything.

 

“Where am I?” she says aloud, unaware of the man’s presence

 

“Relax, you’re in the hospital.” the man says

 

Max’s ears perk up immediately. She turns to look at the man. “Who are you?”

 

“I’m Detective Fitz--”

 

“Where’s Chloe?” she cuts him off

 

“Chloe… Is that who you were sharing the room with?”

 

“Yes! Where is she? Where’s Chloe?!” Max asks forcefully

 

The man take off his hat, rubbing his hand over his mouth before putting it to his forehead and running it back over his slicked hair.

 

“Where’s Chloe?” She demands, eyes widening, her breaths becoming rapid and shallow “I need to see Chloe!”

 

“Your friend…” he wrings the brim of his hand in his hands uncomfortably “Your friend is... downstairs…”

 

“Downstairs?” Max asks, pulling herself down the bed “What room?”

 

“Nah, kid… ya don’t…” He moves to corral her between the bed’s rails

 

“Get out of my way. I have to see Chloe!” Max pulls the heart rate monitor from her finger and yanks out her IV, vaulting over the rail.

 

He stays between her and the door, backing up as she moves across the room “You can’t--” He braces himself in the doorway, blocking her exit.

 

“ _Move!_ ” Max shouts, putting both her hands on the detective’s chest, trying to force him out of her way. “Get out of my way! I have to see Chloe!”

 

A doctor and nurse appear behind the detective as various tones and alarms drone on in the background.

 

“Let me go!” Max pleads

 

“Kid, calm down!” he urges her

 

She pounds on his chest with the bottoms of her fists “Why won’t you let me see Chloe?!”

 

“You don’t understand.” He grits his teeth, enduring the assault with the patience of a saint

 

Max’s head spins as she panics. “Chloe?!” she yells past the detective “Chloe?!” Max tries to reach past him, clawing at the frame of the door

 

“Detective!” The doctor shouts “Restrain her before she hurts herself.”

 

Max’s head and eyes bob around frantically, her arms a tornado as she tries to make her way past the brick house of a man in front of her. “Chloe?!” she sobs, “Where’s Chloe!?”

 

Detective Fitzpatrick grabs Max’s arms, pinning them to her sides. “Kid, listen to me!” She tries to punch his chest again but can’t move in his grip. “Why won’t you let me see Chloe?!” She struggles against the hold, screaming and pleading to be let go.

 

“Goddammit listen!” He shakes her violently. “Your friend’s gone!”

 

Mustering all of her strength, Max breaks free of his grasp. “No! I saved her! I _saved_ Chloe!” she pants. She lunges for the door again, getting caught in Fitzpatrick’s bearhug.

 

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry.”

 

Max’s mind goes blank, her body feebly struggling against his grasp.

 

_Chloe_

 

_Gone_

 

_Chloe_

 

_Gone_

 

“Chloe…” leaves Max’s lips breathlessly, her eyes rolling back as she collapses, Detective Fitzpatrick holding her up in a rib crushing hug.

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

Sights of doctor and nurses rushing into the room melt into images of Chloe that rush through Max’s mind at lightning pace as she blacks out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for crying


	4. You Can't Go Home Again

“My powers might not last, Chloe…”

 

“That's okay. We will. Forever.”

 

Max’s eyes trace down her arm and back up Chloe's, both giggling as they try to keep balance on the rail tracks. Chloe turns to look at Max and in the instant their eyes meet Max is blinded and deafened by the explosion of a flashbulb.

 

Max's eyes flutter “What?”

 

“I double dare you,” Chloe grins “Kiss me now.”

 

Max stretches onto her tiptoes, practically leaping at Chloe and planting a kiss firmly on her lips. Everything freezes in a perfect snapshot of romance.

 

_Please. Let me stay here forever._

 

Monotonous beeping slowly invades Max's ears as everything fades to black. Opening her eyes, Max finds herself back in the hospital.

 

“Welcome back.” Detective Fitzpatrick says warmly, leaning forward in his chair.

 

Max tries to rub her head but her arms are stopped by padded restraints holding her to the bed. “What the…”

 

“Sorry about that. I tried to tell them I could handle you but… protocol.” He said the last word dismissively.

 

Memories of beating on the man's chest shot through Max's mind turning her face bright red. “Sorry I hit you…” she says, diverting her gaze.

 

Fitzpatrick walks to the side of the bed. “S’okay, kid. I'm tough.” He grins cheekily. After an awkward pause he speaks again. “So do you think you can tell me what happened?”

 

Max sighs from deep in her chest. “I....” she sniffles, “I think so.”

 

The detective pulls out a yellow pad, writing feverishly as Max retells the events of the past four days. There are many times when Max stops only to insist she is fine and continue the story. When the story is finally finished, Fitzpatrick puts the pad away wiping a tear from his cheek.

 

“I'm real sorry kid.” he says, brushing Max's matted hair from her face. “I'll uh… get somebody to let you out of here.”

 

Max nods to acknowledge his words as he leaves the room. Several minutes later he returns with a nurse in tow. Max rubs her wrists as she looks around the room and spots her and Chloe's bags in the corner.

 

Rolling up his sleeves and donning his hat, Detective Fitzpatrick leans against the door frame looking into the room. “Need anything before I go?”

 

With her knees pulled to her chest, hugging herself tightly, she thinks. “You said… Chloe was downstairs…”

 

“She is…” he draws his lips in and nods

 

Max looks up at him “Can I see her?”

 

“Kid, I dunno--”

 

“Please?” Max pleads

 

“I…” Fitzpatrick rubs the back of his neck, eyes rolling across the floor in thought “I guess we do need somebody to I'D her…”

 

* * *

 

 

Max follows Detective Fitzpatrick into the morgue. Her heart races in her chest as they walk to a man in a white coat next to a slab draped in a white sheet.

 

Fitzpatrick turns to Max. “Are you sure?”

 

Max's eyes have been and remain fixed to the sheet. “I'm sure”

 

Fitzpatrick nods to the lab technician. Taking a corner of the sheet in each hand he carefully folds it down uncovering the cadaver from the shoulders up.

 

Max grips the detective's arm. Her face scrunches to hold back tears.

 

_Chloe…_

 

“It's… It's her.” Max chokes out.

 

Fitzpatrick nods to the tech who begins to pull the sheet back up.

 

“Wait…” she calls out “Can I just.... have a minute?”

 

Fitzpatrick nods to the tech and they step out of the room. Max stands frozen looking down at Chloe's placid face.

 

_You look so peaceful now._

 

Tears well as her eyes trace over Chloe's features.

 

_I'm so sorry Chloe. I just…_

 

Max wipes her face on her sleeve trying to collect herself.

 

_I'm gonna fix this Chloe. You deserve better._

 

Max jumps, being shaken from thought by Detective Fitzpatrick’s firm hand on her shoulder. He nods toward the door prompting their exit. On the way out of the morgue Max takes on last look over her shoulder.

 

_You deserve so much better._

 

Using their hands to shield their eyes from the daylight, Max and and Detective Fitzpatrick exit the hospital through the back door.

 

“Can I give you a lift?” he asks slinging his jacket over his shoulders

 

“Where's the nearest bus station?” she replies stiffly

 

“C'mon. I can give ya a lift. Protect and serve?” he taps the badge on his belt

 

“I'm going to Arcadia Bay” she says matter-of-factly

 

“I will call you a cab.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thankful that Detective Fitzpatrick had offered to pay half the fare, Max stares silently out the window for the duration of the ride. Suddenly the cab stops.

 

“End of the line, girlie.” the gruff cab driver says, pulling off the road outside the city limits sign.

 

“What? We're not in Arcadia Bay yet!”

 

The driver points through the windshield to concrete barricades. An orange construction sign above them displays the message: **OR6W TO ARCADIA BAY CLOSED**

 

Gathering her messenger bag and the backpack that had stored clothes on the way back from Alabama, Max swipes the emergency credit card her parents had given her and pays the rest of the fare. She climbs out of the cab, the taxi speeding away as soon as the door closes. Max walks to the barrier, looking far down the road before hopping it and walking toward the heart of Arcadia Bay. She hears Chloe’s voice mingling with her own.

 

_Welcome home, Max._

 

For nearly two hours Max walks alone down the desolate two lane highway accompanied only by the sound of her soles on the pavement and the occasional animal chatter beyond the trees. Cresting the hill into Arcadia Bay she sees the damage wrought upon the town by the storm. The broken lighthouse on the cliff’s peak. Cars flipped belly up. Houses chunked to pieces. Pushing thoughts of blame out, Max continues down the road into town blinding herself to the wreckage around her and focusing on her destination.

 

The sunlight wanes as Max reaches the former Price house. She pushes through the front door marked with a spray painted **_X_** and is surprised to find the house mostly intact. Glass crunches under her feet as she moves past where the sliding doors leading to the back yard once stood. Plucking her prize from the bookshelf, Max sits on the couch and tries to examine it. She curses the dying light of the sun. For too long for her own taste, Max sits, eyes sweeping back and forth across the room as memory after memory floods back.

 

When it gets too dark to see, Max pulls out her phone and powers it on. Using the screen as a flashlight, she makes her way upstairs. She stands outside Chloe’s bedroom door for minutes before finding the strength to go enter. Even more than two months later she can still smell Chloe here. She makes her way to Chloe’s bed, cocooning herself in the blankets. She sobs herself to sleep thinking of Chloe, the Price Family photo album clutched tightly to her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

“My powers might not last, Chloe…”

 

“That's okay. We will. Forever.”

 

Max’s eyes trace down her arm and back up Chloe's, both giggling as they try to keep balance on the rail tracks. Chloe turns to look at Max and in the instant their eyes meet Max is blinded and deafened by the explosion of a flashbulb.

 

Max's eyes flutter “What?”

 

“I double dare you,” Chloe grins “Kiss me now.”

 

Max stretches onto her tiptoes, practically leaping at Chloe and planting a kiss firmly on her lips. Everything freezes in a perfect snapshot of romance.

 

_Please. I don’t want to go._

 

A buzzing against her hip wakes Max. Rolling to the side and bringing her phone to her ear she answers.

 

“MAX! Where are you!?” her mother Vanessa screams

 

“Mom?”

 

“Max we’ve been trying to call you for three days! Where are you?” Vanessa cries into the phone.

 

“Mom, I’m…” Max looks around herself and sighs

 

“You’re what?! Are you okay?”

 

“I’m in Arcadia Bay…”

 

After a long pause Vanessa speaks. “We’re on our way. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

 

“Mom you really--”

 

“Stay put. We love you. Both of you.”

 

Max collapses backwards into Chloe’s pillows, throwing her phone across the room as she begins to cry. Remembering what she came here to do, she brings herself to the task at hand now that daylight streams through the American flag draped over the window. She sits up in Chloe’s bed and pours over the photo album. Eventually she reaches past the end of her time with Chloe and onto Chloe’s time with Rachel.

 

_She looks so happy._

 

She runs her fingers over a picture of Chloe and Rachel dated from May 2010.

 

_I’m sorry I couldn’t… Maybe I can…_

 

She closes the photo album, putting in in her messenger bag. She stuffs Chloe’s pillow into the backpack. Opening the closet, she dons Rachel’s red flannel and black jeans and stows Chloe’s snowdoe in the backpack as well. Lingering in the door, she looks back into Chloe’s room.

 

_This isn’t goodbye. Its see you soon._

 

She makes her way downstairs and leaves through the front door, closing it out of habit. Looking at her phone she hopes the four hours until her parents arrive is enough time to hoof it to Blackwell.

 

Two hours later, Max finds herself standing before Blackwell’s hallowed and hollow halls. Feeling eyes upon her, she spins on her heel. Only the Tobonga looks upon her as she ducks inside. An eerie silence washes over Max as she makes her way through the empty dormitory. Reaching her room, she finds most everything exactly as she left it over seven weeks ago when the town was evacuated. She sits on her bed. Looking around Max remembers clearly how she ripped through this room like a storm that never happened the day after Chloe’s funeral.

 

Setting to work, she drops to her knees and reaches under her bed. She drags a shoebox out. Lifting the top reveals a box of photographs. She thumbs through them confirming they’re what she’s looking for. For good measure takes the pictures from her wall and puts them in the box as well. The box itself goes into her backpack. Half sticks out for lack of room. Lying back on her bed to rest her eyes, Max quietly dozes until her phone blares.

 

“Max the road is closed. How the hell did you even get to Arcadia Bay?” Ryan Caulfield’s voice tore through the air with parental concern

 

“I.. walked? The roads are clear if you can--”

 

She was cut off by the sound of spinning tires and rocking suspension.

 

“On our way. Where are you?”

 

“I’m at Blackwell. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

 

“We’ll be there soon, Max.”

 

Max hung up. She milled around the hall, almost unable to leave. She looked at the slate outside Kate’s door. Scribbled hastily she read “Storm getting bad. Going to parents. Call me” the number was smudged, but she was relieved that Kate had made it to safety. Eventually Max found her way to the parking lot where her parents were waiting and climbed into the car without a word. Ryan and Vanessa exchanged worried glances.

 

“Where’s uhh…” Ryan trailed off

 

Max pulled her phone from her pocket and searched Seattle news. Chloe’s death was barely a snippet, but she zoomed in and handed the phone to her mom before curling up in the back seat.

 

“Oh no.” Vanessa teared up, showing the phone to Ryan

 

He sighed deeply. “Max?”

 

“Just drive, dad.” she manages to cough out.

 

And so he does.

 

* * *

 

“My powers might not last, Chloe…”

 

“That's okay. We will. Forever.”

 

Max’s eyes trace down her arm and back up Chloe's, both giggling as they try to keep balance on the rail tracks. Chloe turns to look at Max and in the instant their eyes meet Max is blinded and deafened by the explosion of a flashbulb.

 

Max's eyes flutter “What?”

 

“I double dare you,” Chloe grins “Kiss me now.”

 

Max stretches onto her tiptoes, practically leaping at Chloe and planting a kiss firmly on her lips. Everything freezes in a perfect snapshot of romance.

 

_No. Let me stay…_

 

Everything fades away. Max feels a hand stroking her head gently. Slowly opening her eyes Max sees her mother sitting above her on the bed.

 

“It's been years since we’ve had to carry you in from the car.” Vanessa coos

 

Max lies in stunned silence.

 

“We’re here, if you ever need to talk. You know that, right?” she reassures her daughter. Shortly after Vanessa picks up on Max’s desire for her to leave and she quietly removes herself from Max’s room.

 

Sitting up and finding her bags, Max sets her plan into motion. She takes her box of pictures and the Price Family photo album and spreads the pictures on her bed. She pulls the cork board from her wall and begins matching dates and photos. Using sticky notes and string she eventually brings together what seems like a cohesive timeline of photos.

 

_This might just work._

 

She touches a pair of photos from May 2010. One is of Chloe and Rachel looking happy as can be. The other is of Max herself, a selfie she took alone in her room. She pulls the selfie from the wall and sits on the bed to focus.

 

_If I can save her…_

 

The photo shakes in its frame.

 

_It might save Chloe…_

  
The picture shakes more violently, the sounds of an instant camera ejecting film and “ _King of Carrot Flowers_ ” drowning out the silence of Max’s room. The room rushes away from Max’s vision as she allows herself to be pulled through time again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't hate me for making you cry (':


	5. Return to Sender

Fifteen-year-old Max’s body shoots up and knocks her chair over. Feeling like her chest is bursting from being forced full of air, her eyes focus and search her surroundings. “Fuck.” she mutters. She puts the chair right side up and searches her desk for anything that could help.

 

_ Fuck. Fuck. What am I doing? How did I not even have a plan? _

 

She looks at the computer screen on her desk.

 

_ Oh. Now I remember today.  _

 

On the screen is a photo of Chloe Price and Rachel Amber at a Firewalk concert. The comment box is filled with an unsent message.

 

_ “I’m glad you made a friend Chloe she looks super cool! I miss you.” I’m kinda glad i never sent that. But… hmm… _

 

Max pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and scrolls through her message history with Chloe. 

 

_ But if I message her she’ll message back and who knows what else could change. But maybe… _

 

Max hits “new text” typing in the blocked number prefix followed by Chloe’s number.

 

**Unknown Number:** Chloe Price. Rachel Amber is special. Do not let anyone hurt her. Do not tell Rachel about this message.

 

She deletes the message from her phone’s history, sitting back in the chair to try to make the transition back as seamless as possible for fifteen-year-old Max. She looks around as the orange bubble of time begins to collapse.

 

_ Will she even listen to a random text?  _ She sighs and puts her hands on the desk.  _ I guess I’ll find out… _

 

The pocket of time collapses around Max ending her time in this frame of time.

 

“Ugh. I can’t believe I even  _ typed _ that.” Fifteen-year-old Max says to herself, holding down the backspace key. The corners of her eyes tear up. “Not like she wants to talk to me anyway…”

 

* * *

 

“Oh fuck!” flies from Max’s mouth, her body sitting up in bed. Forcing her eyes closed she takes a deep breath, slowly opening one eye scared to see where she might be in this timeline. 

 

_ Blackwell?! I’m still at Blackwell? _

 

She turns her head, looking around the dorm. 

 

_ Lisa… My lanterns… My guitar… Everything seems pretty norm… al? _

 

She throws off her covers making a b-line for her mirror. “What the…” She bends and looks at a Polaroid taped to the corner. “When did Victoria and I become friends?” Max spins on her heel. “Wait! FUCK! Chloe!” Pulling her phone from her pocket she dials Chloe’s number.

 

“I’m sorry. The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Goodbye.” the automated voice says

 

“Fuck! Don’t tell me I let her die!” Max says underbreath, tears forming in her eyes as her fists pound on her desk. The vibrations wake her laptop from sleep. “Duh.” She opens her browser and begins searching. 

 

_ Arcadia… Bay… Storm… October. “Freak hailstorm and hurricane force winds damage waterfront of Arcadia Bay?” Does that mean…? _

 

Max hits the back button and starts a new search.

 

_ Blackwell... Academy... Arcadia... Bay…  _ Max’s pauses, biting her tongue  _ Shooting _

 

She looks down at the keyboard, afraid to see the answer. Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she winces as she looks up. 

 

_ No results?  _ Her hands blur across the keyboard.  _ Chloe… Price… Arcadia… Bay… _ Max scans the results.  _ This all seems… normal?  _ She follows a link to Chloe’s social media profile finding no updates since before William’s passing.

 

Max slumps back in her seat suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline fading. Looking at the clock she sees it's only two in the morning. She brings her hands to her face holding her head as she tries to figure out what happened in this timeline. A soft knock on the door startles her.

 

“Max?” a voice calls through the door “Are you okay?”

 

Max drags herself out of the chair, across the room, and to the door. Opening it, she see Victoria Chase on the other side of the threshold.

 

“Victoria?”

 

“I heard yelling. Is everything alright over here?”

 

“I’m fine…” Max tells her “Just a bad dream I guess.”

 

“You’re sure?” Victoria smiles, her eyes betraying the positivity in her words

 

“I’m sure.” she forces a smile “I’m gonna try to get some sleep now. Goodnight, Victoria.”

 

“Goodnight, Max.” Victoria says, walking back across the hall and closing her door

 

Max lets out an exasperated sigh as the door closes. 

 

_ Guess I’ll figure this all out in the morning.  _ Max lies back in bed letting the creeping arms of sleep welcome her.

 

* * *

 

Max gasps for breath as her head breaches the surface of the pool.

 

“Why look…” Chloe beams “An otter in my water.” She slams her hand down to splash Max, setting off a flashbulb explosion when her hands hits the water.

 

Max is suddenly hanging onto the edge of the pool next to Chloe.

 

Chloe turns to Max. “Don’t look so sad. I’m never leaving you…”

 

Everything comes to a standstill as their eyes meet. Max’s heart drops in her chest.

 

_ Don’t make me leave. _

 

Max’s eyes open to see the all too familiar ceiling of her dorm room. Sitting up she wipes the tears from her eyes. “Fuck…”

 

Pushing herself up with both hands and swinging her feet off the bed, she sits on the edge with her head in her hands.

 

_ So the storm didn’t happen… more or less. And there’s nothing about Chloe dying. So how do I… _

 

Her head shoots up in realization “Joyce!” Max shouts, scrambling up from the bed and running to the door. She pauses handle in hand. 

 

_ Maybe I should get dressed first.  _

 

Several minutes later Max, now fully dressed, makes her way out of the dormitory. She weaves through faces familiar and foreign on her way across the quad and down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

 

“Maxine!” a voice calls from behind “Oh Maxine!”

 

Max stops, hunching her shoulders like a child caught sneaking out. “Heeey…” she said, turning around and forcing a smile.

 

Victoria stands before her, arms cross and a smirk on her face. “ _ Where _ are you going? Are you seriously going to skip out on Mark’s class?”

 

“Mark’s class?” Max’s heart skips a beat

 

“Uh… yea? Photography? The whole reason you’re even at Blackhell? Hello?”

 

Max’s eyes glass over. Her brain races in a tizzy.

 

_ Jefferson is still here? Is Rachel dead? Did Kate-- _

 

“Earth to Maxine?” Victoria waves her hand in front of Max’s face “Are you okay?”

 

Shaking her head clear Max assure Victoria that she is just fine “Yea, Victoria. I Just--I have to go.” She turns and keeps walking toward the bus stop.

 

“What should I tell Mark?!” Victoria shouts after her.

 

Max waves her hand up dismissively as to say she doesn’t care and hops on the bus downtown. Finding a seat near the front, Max watches the town roll by. Some buildings are still being rebuilt, some have been obviously repaired, others still are missing completely. 

 

_ What did I do? _

 

She departs from the bus in front of the Two Whales and waste no time going in. She sits in a familiar booth and waits. Max buries her face in a menu trying to figure out what to say. A few minutes later heels click on linoleum tile and a coffee cup clanks on the table. 

 

“Mornin’, Hon.” Joyce says, rattling off a list of specials “So, ready to order or you still need some time?”

 

“I’ll have uhh.. The um… bacon omelette.” Max finally stammers out

 

“Alright. Back in a jif.” Joyce calls the order through the window to the cook. 

 

_ I wonder if Joyce even remembers me. It's been over five years. Maybe she-- _

 

Max’s trance is interrupted as a plate of food slides under her face. 

 

Joyce slides into the booth across from Max. “It's been a long time, Max.”

 

Max drops her fork with a clang. “I… uh…”

 

“Don’t look so nervous.” Joyce chuckles warmly, taking Max’s hand “It's good to see you again.”

 

Tears fall into Max’s omelette. 

 

Joyce holds onto Max’s hand gently. “What’s wrong, hon?”

 

Max grits her teeth sucking in air. “I’m sorry, Joyce. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Sorry? What in the world do you have to be sorry for?”

 

“Everything… For William… For leaving you… and Chloe…”

 

“No, no. None of that now. None of that was your fault.” Joyce shakes her head

 

“I wasn’t there for you. I wasn’t there for… Chloe. I… I should have done something.” Max cries out on the verge of tears

 

“Max…” Joyce puts both hands around Max’s hand “There was nothing you  _ could _ have done. You were just a kid.”

 

“But…”

 

“But nothing.” Joyce says sternly, wiping the dampness from her own eyes. “Now… eat up. Then you can tell me all about Max.”

 

Max looks up at Joyce forcing a smile. She picks at her plate as she and Joyce talk over the course of an hour, intermittently stopping as Joyce attends to a customer.

 

“Sounds like things worked out pretty well for you after you left.” Joyce remarks

 

“I guess…” Max says with her head down, pushing around a bit of cold egg on her plate

 

“So why come back?”

 

Max lays her fork down, lifting her head to look Joyce in the face. She grins meekly. “For Chloe…”

 

“Oh…” Joyce leans back. She looks down at the table in thought.

 

“Oh?” Max replies, eyebrow raising

 

“Chloe is…” Joyce bites her lip

 

Max’s eyes widen “Chloe is... what?”

 

Joyce sighs deeply. “Chloe’s gone, Max.”

 

“What do you mean  _ gone _ ?”

 

“I mean she up and left. Her and that gal pal of hers.” 

 

“Rachel?”

 

Joy’s surprise is evident in her face. “How did you--”

 

“I go to Blackwell. Everybody still talks about Rachel Amber.”

 

Joyce shakes her head “Yeah… of course.”

 

Max rubs her hands, the silence is deafening. “When did she leave?”

 

“The day she turned eighteen. Said she couldn’t live with her stepfather one more day.”

 

“He couldn’t have been that bad, could he?” Max bit her lip, remembering the David who loved Chloe but was more abrasive than sandpaper

 

“No… There were…” Joyce puts a hand to the side of her head. “Other issues.”

 

“What issues?”

 

Joyce thinks for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t…”

 

“Joyce I was Chloe’s best friend. I just…”

 

“You were, Max. Maybe things would have been different if you’d never left.”

 

“I’m… I’m sorry…” Max’s eyes begin to well

 

“No, I’m sorry, Max. It's not like you had a say. It's not like you’re the one that ruined my daughter’s life.” she folds her hands on the table “We have Rachel to thank for that.”

 

Max’s head spins.  _ What did Rachel do? What did I do?  _

 

Joyce stands from the booth. “I need a smoke.” she heads for the door “Sal!” she shouts to the kitchen “I’m taking a break!”

 

“Whaddya call the last hour talkin’ to the kid?” the cook yells through the serving window

 

“Oh, put a sock in it.” Joyce slams the door behind her.

 

Max puts a twenty dollar bill on the table and runs out the door. She looks around the parking lot, spying Joyce leaning against a car puffing from a cigarette. Max slowly makes her way across the lot. By the time she reaches Joyce, she’s stomping out the butt of her cigarette. 

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Joyce.” Max says meekly, holding her elbow

 

“It's okay. You were just lookin’ for your friend.”

 

“Do you… know where she is?”

 

Joyce sighs and lights up another smoke. “Last I knew…” she inhales deeply, letting out a monsterous smoke cloud above her head “Chloe was in LA.”

 

“Los Angeles?” Max’s jaw slacks “with Rachel…”

 

“Yeah.” Joyce says crossly “With Rachel.”

 

“Fuck” Max mutters to herself, her hands bouncing off her thighs “How am I gonna get to LA?”

 

“What do you mean ‘Get to LA’?” 

 

“To-To find Chloe…”

 

“Max you can’t seriously--”

 

“I have to… I have to find her.”

 

Joyce looks Max up and down, suspicion in her eyes. After a long pause she speaks. “Why? Why now? After all this time? Why do you suddenly care about Chloe again?”

 

Max balls her fists, beginning to sob. “I never sto-stopped caring. I fu-fucked up, Joyce. I kno-know that. I should have been here. I should have… I just… I just want to find her, Joyce. I want my friend back.”

 

“Oh, sweetie…” Joyce crushes out her second cigarette

 

Max tries to pull back the tears, panting. “Do you have…” she takes a deep breath “Any idea where she is in LA?” 

 

“Yeah…” Joyce slowly bobbs her head. She turns to open the passenger door she had been leaning on, sliding the seat back. She pulls out a small lockbox from beneath. “For a long time I was sending Chloe money. Just my tips every week. Then uh…” Joyce raises her cheeks, squinting, trying to maintain composure. “They started coming back.” She hands Max an envelope. “This is where I’d start.”

 

“Thank you, Joyce.” Max wipes the tears and snot on her sleeve “Now I just need to figure out--”

 

“And this,” Joyce cuts her off. She takes Max’s hand, placing something heavy in it “Is to help you get there.”

 

Max looks down in her hand as Joyce turns to put the box and seat back. In her hand, she sees a wad of rolled bills with a rubber band holding them together. 

 

“Joyce… I can’t take this.”

 

“Yes you can, Max. It's everything I was going to send to her since the letters started coming back.”

 

“How much even  _ is  _ this?” Max lifted the bills to look at them

 

“It's almost five hundred dollars.” Joyce lights up a third cigarette

 

“Joyce…”

 

“Max… If you find her…” Joyce’s eyes begin to tear up “Tell her I…”

 

Max wraps her arms around Joyce’s waist. 

 

Joyce holds Max tight for a good long while. 

 

“Joyce!” Sal yells from the door “Ya workin’ the rest of ya shift or not?”

 

Joyce reluctantly lets go of Max, making her way to back across the lot.

 

“I’ll find her, Joyce.” Max says confidently “I’ll find her and bring her home.”

 

Joyce stops, stomping out her cigarette. “I hope you do, Max. I hope you do.”

 

* * *

 

Max boards the bus, handing her ticket to the driver. He points out a seat by the window. Sliding between passengers, Max plops down in her seat, her bags on her lap. After a while the bus begins to fill up and the driver spins a lever near the steering wheel. A loud bell dings.

 

“Next stop!” the driver yells “Los Angeles, California!”

 

_ I’m coming, Chloe. I’m coming. _


	6. In the City of Fallen Angels

“You don’t know me at all, Max.” Kate sobs “You never listen, because you don’t give a damn. Well maybe you will now.” Kate Marsh turns away from Max, leaning out over the edge of the roof and letting gravity pull her down.

 

Max reaches out to Kate, grasping only air, screaming “Kate! No!” Lighting, thunder, and exploding flashbulbs blind Max.

 

“I need to sleep, Max!” Chloe cries, running her fingers through her blue hair “I need to stop whatever’s happening in my head.”

 

“Chloe!” Max wails “I can’t lose you again!”

 

Chloe looks at Max, hey eyes puffy and red. “Maybe I was never yours to lose.” Chloe says lifting herself onto the balcony. She takes one last look at Max and leans back, allowing herself to fall.

 

“Chloe!” Max screams flying forward, her head careening into the seat in front of her.

 

Rubbing her head, Max looks around. A few other passengers stare at Max as she rubs her head, her face turning with embarrassment. She buries her face in her folded arms.

 

“What’s wrong with you people?” the man in the seat next to her pipes up “Never seen somebody have a bad dream before?” The looky-loos turn back to their own devices.

 

“Thank you.” Max says, muffled by her arms

 

“Yea, no problem.” he says.

 

After a while Max lifts her head and looks out the window.

 

“So…” the man says “What brings you to the City of Angels?”

 

“I’m uh…” Max thinks for a moment, watching traffic go by “Going to visit an old friend.”

 

“Ah that’s great. Me? I’m just going to a show. Local production but I saw part of it online...” he continues as Max’s mind wanders

 

 _God, that was the worst dream. I’m so sorry Kate. And Chloe…_ she continues to stare out the window as the man rambles on about the show _Wait, what happened to Kate in this timeline?_

 

“Sounds pretty good, right?” the man in the seat next to her says

 

“Uh… Yea. That sounds pretty great.” Max says, trying to hide her disinterest as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her journal.

 

_“On my way to give Warren his flash drive back I saw Mr. Madsen yelling at Kate Marsh. I told him to leave her alone and stop bullying her. I caught up with her later and made sure she was okay.”_

 

_So I guess since I never ran away from Nathan with Chloe I had time to check up on her._

 

_“Kate told me about what happened on the video. I did my best to comfort her. I hope she’s okay.”_

 

_“I had tea with Kate today. She had bandages on her arms. She told me she’d been hurting herself ever since the video got out. I hugged her and we both cried. I told her she could call me whenever she felt like hurting herself again. She said she would.”_

 

_“Victoria came and apologized to Kate while we were having tea today. Even weirder, Kate forgave her. I don’t know how she does it.”_

 

_“It's been weeks since I’ve seen Kate with a bandage. She hasn’t called for a while either. She has been spending a lot of time with Victoria lately, though. It’s weird, but it's nice to see her coming out of her shell again.”_

 

 _I’m glad Kate’s okay in this timeline._ Max thinks, closing her journal. She puts the journal back in her bag and leans against the window, watching the city rise into view over the horizon.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the driver announces over the PA “Welcome to Los Angeles.”

 

Around half an hour later, the bus pulls into the lot of the station. The passengers, including Max, depart and go their separate ways. Thankful for having packed light, Max manages to avoid the line of people collecting their luggage and makes her way to the terminal. Once inside, she purchases a map from the reception desk and a snack from the vending machine.

 

“Release the kra-can.” she chuckles under her breath. Finishing her snack and drink she heads for the exit.

 

“Hey!” the man from the next seat on the bus says walking to the same door, bags in tow. “I hope you find your friend.”

 

Max can’t help but smile at the man’s apparent kind-hearted nature. “Thanks. I hope you enjoy your show.”

 

Stepping out into the light, Max unfolds her map. After some time she manages to find her bearings based on the bus station. Pulling Joyce’s envelope from her bag, she begins looking for the address.

 

_That is… so far away. Maybe I should get a ride._

 

Folding the map and stowing it in her bag, Max walks down the street in front of the bus depot and flags down a cab.

 

“Where ya headed, kid?” the driver asks

 

Max leans down to the driver’s window. “Do you know how to get uh…” she pulls the envelope out of her bag and points to the address “Here?”

 

“Sure kid. I can get ya there. Hop in.”

 

Max climbs the cab. With a loud caching the driver flips on the meter and drives. Sliding across to the other side, Max watches the sights whiz by.

 

_This city is amazing. Maybe I can take some pictures later._

 

The driver turns his head and grins “You want the scenic route?”

 

“Umm… Maybe next time.” Max tells him

 

“You’re the boss.” he says

 

A few minutes of silent driving later the cab pulls up in front of an apartment complex. The meter stops with a loud **ding**.

 

“How much do I owe you?” Max asks, reaching for the wad of cash in her bag

 

“For you kid?” the driver scratches his chin “Fohty bucks.”

 

Max’s eyes wander to the meter. It reads forty-five and change. “Forty? Are you sure?”

 

“Sure I’m sure.” he laughs, taking the money from Max’s hand. “Go get him, bright eyes.” He winks at her and laughs again.

 

Max blushes but smiles. “Thank you.”

 

Max climbs out the cab with her bags and heads into the apartment office. Inside the dank, lifeless room Max finds a fat, balding man in glasses sitting behind a glass barrier, his eyes glued to a television screen. Max walks up to the counter, unnoticed but clearly in the man’s field of view.

 

“Excuse me?” she taps on the glass

 

The attendant laughs at the television but looks up as Max knocks on the glass. He presses a button. **CLICK** goes the speaker in the window. “Sorry what?” he says

 

“I’m uh I’m looking for somebody that lives here.” Max tells him

 

 **CLICK** “I can’t give out tenant information.” he turns back to his television

 

“Please? My letters started coming back and I’m worried.” she says

 

 **CLICK** “You know I could get in trouble for something like that right? It would be a risk on my part. Maybe if you made it worth my while…” he raises an eyebrow as a dropbox slides out from under the window.

 

Max groans, reaching into her bag and dropping a twenty dollar bill in the box. It retracts into the wall where the attendant quickly palms it. He gives a disgusting toothy grin, a gold tooth shining in the light.

 

 **CLICK** “How may I be of service?” he asks saccharinely

 

Max holds the envelope against the glass “I need to find this woman.”

 

He slides his glasses up his face, reading the envelope. **CLICK** “She doesn’t live here anymore. That’s why your letters came back.”

 

“When?” Max’s head tilts

 

 **CLICK** “When she stopped paying rent and got evicted. So about three months ago?”

 

“Well where’d she go?”

 

 **CLICK** “Don’t know. Don’t care.” he reaches up and turns off the speaker, turning back to his television and laughing again

 

Max rolls her eyes and leaves the office. Sitting down on the stairs to the next floor she hangs her head and sobs.

 

_How am I gonna find you, Chloe?_

 

When she can’t cry anymore, Max stands and shuffles away from the apartment building. For hours she wanders aimlessly around West Los Angeles, gradually making her way through Santa Monica to the coast. She walks around the famous Santa Monica pier, making a funnel cake her lunch for the day and eventually decides to ride the ferris wheel.

 

_This is such a beautiful view._

 

“I wish you were here, Chloe.” Max says to the empty seat next to her. She sighs, propping her head up with her hand, elbow on the side of the seat. After a few more rotations the ride ends and Max walks on the sidewalk along the beach. She passes by several street performers before taking a seat on a bench and watching a heavyset balding man in shorts play classical music on an acoustic guitar while his friend sings about how great the man playing guitar is. Max reaches into her bag, pulling out a plastic baggie of photographs. She fingers through them until she finds the picture of Chloe and Rachel that inspired her to create this timeline, contemplating where to go from here. She holds it in her hand, zoning out as she stares off over the ocean wondering where Chloe might be.

 

“Hey! Bus girl!” a voice breaks her trance.

 

Max turns toward the voice and see the man from the bus. “Oh.. hey…”

 

He sits down next to her, slinging his backpack off his shoulder. “So how’s your friend?”

 

Max stares at him for a moment, her lip quivering. “I umm…” she looks away, arm bouncing off her knee photo in hand “I couldn’t find her.”

 

“Damn…” he says, putting his hand on her shoulder “I hope she’s okay.”

 

“Me t-too.” Max sniffles

 

Bus guy tries to force a smile as Max turns her head away, his eyes trailing down. His eyes narrow in curiosity as they land on the photo in Max’s hand. “Is that a picture of her?”

 

“Yea…” breathlessly falls from Max’s lips. “That’s her.” she turns the photo so the man can see.

 

After a moment he shoots up “Hey! I know her!”

 

“You what?”

 

“Yea!” he smiles “She was in the show!”

 

“The show? What show?” Max leans in, confused.

 

“The one I was telling you about on the bus? She’s the star!” he giggles, pointing at the picture “At the Santa Monica Playhouse! It's just a few blocks away!”

 

Max pushes herself to her feet, stashing the photo back in her bag. “Can you show me?”

 

“Haha! _Hell_ yes!” He waves his arm in a circle “Follow me!”

 

He zigzags down the crowded sidewalk, avoiding running into the pedestrians. Max runs after him, struggling to keep up. After several minutes of chase, he stops in front of a small cottage-looking building and bends over, hands on his knees.

 

“Here we are. If you’re lucky she’s still here. If not… I guess you could always hang out for the next show.”

 

Max doubles over, holding the wall to support herself “Thank… You…” she pants

 

“Hey, no problem.” he says, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Until we meet again, bus girl.” he grins and give her the finger guns

 

Max giggles “Until then, bus dude.” She waves goodbye and heads into the building.

 

Inside, the lobby appears empty. The eerie quiet unnerves Max as she wanders around. Looking up she sees a sign pointing to the main stage and follows its directions. She walks down a long corridor, her fingers trailing on the wall until she reaches the theater doors. She carefully opens the doors. A woman bends over, cleaning up on the stage. Max closes the door behind her, descending the aisle toward the stage.

 

“Show’s over kid.” the woman’s unfamiliar voice calls from the stage.

 

Max freezes in place, her face lighting up like a bulb. The woman stands up straight, crossing her arms, her back to Max.

 

“However…” she turns around “Autographs are only _five_ dollars?” she singsongs

 

Max’s eyes widen in disbelief “Rachel? Rachel Amber?”

 

“Ah, another adoring fan, I see.” Rachel smirks

 

“Not…” Max squints, turning her head and biting her lip “Not exactly.”

 

“Oh?” Rachel says, sitting on the edge of the stage. “Then what brings you here?”

 

“Umm…” Max reaches into her bag, pulling out the photo of Chloe and Rachel. “This…” she holds the picture out toward Rachel, inching toward her.

 

Rachel grabs the picture from Max’s hand. Her brow furrows as she looks at it. “Where did you get this?” she barks, sliding off the stage

 

“I’m--”

 

“Hold on.” Rachel says, leaning back and crossing her arms again “Max Caulfield?”

 

“How did you--”

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Max Caulfield. A _lot_.” Rachel shakes her head.

 

Max stands there, still in a kind of shock from seeing the girl she once knew to be dead standing before her.

 

“So, Max Caulfield…” Rachel sits in the front row, patting the seat beside her. “What brings you to fabulous Los Angeles?”

 

“Well, I’m here--” Max starts

 

“Ooh hold that thought.” Rachel pinches her fingers together holding them to her forehead “Chloe Price. Chloe Price. Aaaand… Chloe Price.” she pulls her hand from her forehead and opens an imaginary envelope, shaking out an imaginary sheet of paper. “Reasons Max Caulfield is in Los Angeles.”

 

“Again, how?”

 

“Like I said. I’ve heard a lot about you.” she giggles

 

“From Chloe…” Max says

 

Rachel sighs “From Chloe…”

 

The girls look each other up and down for a few moments.

 

“So…” Max finally breaks the silence “Where _is_ Chloe?”

 

“That…” Rachel slumps back in her seat, breaking eye contact with Max. “Is a story and a half…”

 

“I have time.” Max tells her

 

“Even so…” Rachel stands “It’s not my story to tell.” She begins walking up the ramp toward the door. She opens the door, turning back toward Max. “Are you coming?”

 

Max gets up and jogs after her. She follows Rachel back down the corridor to the lobby. Two well dressed women sit next to each other on the bench in the center, giggling and playfully pushing each others’ shoulders.

 

“Liv. Em.” Rachel calls to them

 

“Oh, hey, Rach. Was wondering when you were gonna finish cleaning up.” the taller woman says. She eyes Max up and down “Who’s the square?”

 

“This is…” Rachel stops to think “A mutual acquaintance of _an old friend_.” Rachel says

 

Max raises an eyebrow.

 

The taller woman walks to Rachel and Max, circling. “I see…”

 

“Can you get her where she needs to go?” Rachel asks

 

The shorter of the two women stands up “We can.”

 

“Good,” Rachel says “Take good care of her.”

 

The taller woman wraps an arm around Max’s shoulders “Oh, we will.”

 

The shorter woman flanks Max’s other side and they walk her outside. Max’s heart races as the women usher her around the corner, down the alley, and into a car. The shorter woman climbs into the back seat with Max, the taller woman takes the wheel.

 

“So…” Max says as the car starts rolling “Where are you taking me?”

 

The woman in the driver seat looks into the rearview mirror, her eyes piercing Max like daggers. “To Chloe. That _is_ where you wanted to go, right?”

 

“Umm… yeah… but why couldn’t Rachel take me?” Max asks

 

The shorter woman brushes Max’s hand “It's too… painful for Rachel.”

 

“Why? What does that mean?” Max pulls her hand away

 

“It's not our place to say.” the taller woman says

 

“Then whose is it?” Max questions.

 

Em and Liv exchange glances, but remain silent. A few minutes later the car pulls over in front of a motel.

 

“Get out.” the taller woman commands

 

Max complies, stepping out into the evening air as the driver side window rolls down.

 

“Three B. Knock twice. Got it?” the woman behind the wheel says

 

“Three B knock twice?” Max repeats

 

“Good luck.” the woman in the back seat says.

 

The windows roll up and the car speeds away. Max turns around, her eyes scanning the open air three floor motel. A cold shiver runs up Max’s spine.

 

_This reminds me way too much of the hotel in Alabama._

 

Max ascends the stairs to the second level. “Three B, Three B” she whispers to herself. She walks down the path in front of the doors on the second level.

 

_Eight B… Seven B… Six B… Five B… Four B…_

 

Stopping in front of the door of Three B, Max takes a deep breath. She raises her shaking hand and knock on the door. **KNOCK KNOCK**

 

The door creaks open. A woman stands in the door, her ripped jeans and fraying tank top hang off of her slender frame.

 

“Oh…” Chloe’s voice rasps out, her face concealed by the shadows “I thought you were someone else.” She leans through the door, looking both ways down the walkway.

 

Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. Chloe’s greasy blonde hair had been done up in a messy bun, two chopsticks holding it together. The makeup plastered on her face did little in the way to hide her sunken eyes or her gaunt cheeks, nor did it conceal the multitude of pockmarks dotting the pale, almost translucent, skin of Chloe’s face like constellations.

 

“So what do you want?” Chloe asks, licking her cracked lips

 

“Chloe? It's… It's me…” Max whimpers

 

“Oh shit. Max?” Chloe looks her up and down “That is you, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” Max says, nervously holding the straps of her messenger bag “It's me…”

 

“So uh… What do you want? I mean I haven’t seen you in over five years and you, what, track me down from Arcadia Shitstain the whole way down here?”

 

“I just want to talk, Chloe.”

 

“Time is money, honey.” She sneers at Max

 

Max pulls the rest of the money from Joyce out of her bag, still over three-hundred dollars. “What will this get me?”

 

Chloe takes the wad into her hand, quickly counting it. “I guess I’m yours for the night.” She turns around, sweeping her arm through the air. “Welcome to mi casa. If I knew you were coming I might have cleaned up a bit… Maybe cleaned the stains off the sheets.”

 

“It's… It's fine… Really.” Max stumbles over her own words

 

Chloe lights up a cigarette, plopping backwards into a chair and lifting her legs onto a footstool in one fluid motion “So, Max,” she says “How’s tricks?”

 

“Tricks?” Max asks

 

Chloe lets out a long puff of smoke “Oh, sorry. Job lingo.”

 

“Okay!” Max voice raises a bit, shaking “I get it. You can stop now.”

 

Chloe scowls at her “Oh I’m sorry. Does my line of work make you uncomfortable, Caulfield?”

 

“N-No. I mean--” Max stammers “Can we just like… go get something to eat and talk?”

 

“Sure… your money for my time, after all.” Chloe says, stuffing the money into her pocket

 

“All of my money…” Max mumbles as she looks away down at the floor, holding her own arm.

 

Chloe pats Max on the shoulder “My treat then. I know a place.”

 

Chloe leads Max several blocks to a greasy spoon of a diner. Chloe flashes two fingers to the waitress and takes Max to a booth.

 

“So you wanna talk?” Chloe leans back in her seat. “Talk.”

 

“How… How did you get here?” Max asks her

 

“I walked?” Chloe grins impishly the way she always had in every timeline

 

Max tries to force a smile. “You know what I mean…”

 

“It's…Its a long story…” Chloe looks out the window.

 

Max reaches across the table, laying her hand on Chloe’s. “I have you all night, don’t I?”

 

“Yeah.” Chloe scoffs “It's… kinda hard to talk about. Settle for the cliff’s notes?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Well I’m sure you know how my life went to absolute _fucking_ shit after you left and my dad was…” She pats her cheek dry. “After that I started _acting out_ ” She emphasized with air quotes. “Cutting class, smoking pot. All that good shit. Then one day I met an angel.” Chloe looks down at the table. “I thought I did.”

 

“Rachel…”

 

“Yeah… Rachel.” Chloe takes a drink from her coffee. “Meeting her was like walking into a whirlwind. I knew there was something… special there. Like something tugging on my heart telling me that it was right, y’know?”

 

Max’s hand fidgets and she pulls it away from Chloe’s, her face turning read. “I-I think I have an idea…”

 

“Well anyway her dad was the DA. Probably still is. I don’t know. The point is, he was tied up in some shady shit. It's an even longer story, but the point is his wife wasn’t Rachel’s real mom. Rachel’s real mom was kidnapped by Arcadia Bay’s resident drug dealer--”

 

“Frank?!” Max gasps

 

“What? No. Frank’s small time. This guy was like… Frank’s boss or some shit.” Chloe pauses, squinting her eyes “Wait how do you know Frank?”

 

“I’ll tell you when you finish, okay?”

 

Chloe bites her lip, eyes narrowed. “Okay… Well so for whatever reason I got in my head, I decided that _I_ of all people, was going to be the one to save Rachel’s mom. So I go to where the meet is supposed to be, right? It's like the burned out barn. That’s another long story. Fuck. Whatever. So I get there and I find this douchenozzle. He’s getting ready to shoot Rachel’s mom up with some Junk. Smack. H.” She rolls her hands in the air in front of her “Know what I’m saying?”

 

“Oh, Chloe…” Max blinks back her tears.

 

“Then I remember this random ass text I got like two days earlier.” she grits her teeth and turns her head “It said ‘Rachel Amber is special. Do not let anyone hurt her.’ I remember it so clearly. I don’t know why. But it made me even more pissed off. So I grabbed this knife from the bar… and I charged the fucker.” Chloe clicks her tongue and nods to herself. “Got the bastard pretty good. Probably would have ended up losing his nose.”

 

Max grips the table “Then what?” she asks sheepishly

 

“Then he kicked my ass.” Chloe says plainly. Her eyes narrow again, her teeth grind. “Harder than it's ever been kicked before or since.”

 

Max sucks her lips in, water streaming down her cheeks. She reaches out to Chloe.

 

“Then he took that shit he was gonna use on Andrea… and he gave me the dose.” she runs her hand up the back of her neck, over her head, and scratches her arm.

 

“Oh my god, Chloe.” Max breaks into a full sob “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

 

“Max just fuckin’...” Chloe gets out of the booth and slides in next to Max. “Calm the fuck down before we get thrown out.” She grabs several napkins from the holder and wipes Max’s face.

 

“I-I’m” she sniffles and hiccups “I’m sorry.”

 

“It's okay… just geeze, cool it.”

 

“I’m-I’m tr-trying.” she huffs

 

About the time the waitress brings out their food, Max finally settles down. Chloe returns to her own side of the booth.

 

“What about Rachel?” Max asks

 

“Oh… yea. Of course you would have to ask about that now.” Chloe sighs, picking at her fries

 

“Can you tell me what happened?” Max leans in

 

“She didn’t know about uh…” Chloe taps the track marks on the inside of her elbow with two fingers “Until after we ran away together. I don’t… I don’t know how. Maybe she just didn’t want to know? Point is, after she found out she tried to get me clean. _Obviously_ that didn’t work. Then she decided she couldn’t deal anymore and she bounced. She just fucking left me.”

 

“I’m… I’m sorry Chloe.”

 

“You keep saying that…” Chloe bites her tongue and tries to force a grin.

  
After a long pause, Chloe speaks again. “So…” Chloe says, chomping into her burger “What about you? Why did you come all the way here for little ol’ me?”

 

“That’s an even longer story…” Max sighs, nibbling at her fries

 

“You have time.”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me anyway…”

 

“Try me.” Chloe smirks

 

Over the next hour and a half Max tells Chloe everything about what happened that fateful week when Arcadia Bay was almost, or was, wiped off the face of the Earth by a freak storm. She spares no detail from the first rewind in the bathroom to the regret that forced Max to change history. No detail spared save for her attempt to save Chloe’s father, William.

  
Chloe pushes her plate away. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

 

“I can prove it, Chloe.”

 

“Fucking try!” Chloe’s jaw slides forward and her brow furrows

 

“Look at the traffic outside. Blue car. Red car. Police cruiser. Silver car. Another red car. Purple truck.”

 

Chloe slides over to the window. She watches, eyes narrowing as six vehicles drive by in the order Max just described.

 

“A plate is about to break.” Max says, as a shatter echos through the diner. Chloe turns to look in the direction of the sound.

 

“It's okay, Sugar. Happens all the time. Plenty more where that came from.“ Max says in unison with the waitress.

 

“How the **_fuck_ **?” Chloe swings around

 

“I told you. I watched all happen already. Twice.”

 

“I don’t…” Chloe shakes her head violently “I don’t believe you. I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because if this was real… If you could fucking _time travel_?” Chloe’s eyes become awash in tears “Why didn’t you save my fucking dad?”

 

“Chloe… I... “ Max reaches out to grab Chloe’s arm

 

Chloe jerks away “You what, Max? You fucking what?”

 

Max’s own eyes fill with tears, remember what happened when she did just that. “I tried. I tried to save William. I tried to make things better for you!” she sobs from deep in her chest “Chlo-ee!”

 

"I guess you didn't try hard enough, Dr. Who." Chloe stands up, pulling the money from her pocket and throws it at Max. The band breaks and bills fly all over the table. “Fuck you, Max. Fuck you. Fuck your lies. Fuck your money. Fuck your tricks. Go home.”

 

Max reaches across the table, trying to grab at Chloe, trying to make her stay. She collapses on the table, head in folded arms sobbing like a child. For some time she just sobs and sobs. Eventually the waitress comes to the table.

 

“I’m sorry, Sugar, but you gotta go.” the older woman says

 

Max snorts, wiping her face with napkins. “I’m sorry. I’m leaving.” She grabs her bags and heads to the door.

 

“Hey!” the waitress calls “What about all this money?”

 

“Keep it!” Max shouts back, walking out.

 

Max wanders for hours in the unfamiliar city, her feet becoming as numb as her mind. Eventually she finds herself back in Santa Monica, the sun rising up behind her as she looks out over the ocean again.

 

_I’m sorry Chloe. I’m so sorry. I know I can make this better. I know I can. I just need to… I just need to figure out how._

 

Max pulls from her bag the packet of pictures. Thumbing through them, she finds the one she needs. Staring intently at the frame, sounds of a Polaroid camera whirring and the music of Neutral Milk Hotel buzz in and out. Finding her focus, Max’s mind rushes through time and space back to the origin of this wretched timeline.

 

Fifteen-year-old Max’s body shoots up and knocks her chair over. Feeling like her chest is bursting from being forced full of air, her eyes focus and search her surroundings. “Goddammit.” she mutters, tears forming in her eyes. She sits back down, her legs pulling up as she curls into a ball on the chair determined to not set the timeline she just saw into motion.

 

“I’m sorry, Rachel…” Max whispers to herself as the semi-transparent bubble of time collapses

 

* * *

 

Max groans, holding her head tightly with both hands. She opens her eyes and finds herself back in her Seattle bedroom. Twisting herself half out of bed, she rubs the tears from her eyes and looks at the cork board covered in pictures and string and notes.

 

_Let’s try something different this time…_

 

She walks to the board, possibilities of new plans formulating in her head.


	7. No Good Deed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains scenes of graphic violence. Proceed at your own risk.

“Okay,” Max tells herself, running a hand back through her hair “Telling Chloe to protect Rachel doesn't work out for anyone.”

 

_Except Rachel_

 

“Shut up.” she whispers to the voice in her head.

 

Max paces back and forth across her Seattle bedroom. With each pass she glares down at the cork board of pictures.

 

_If telling Chloe to save Rachel…_

 

She turns on her heel.

 

_Turns Chloe into that…_

 

She turns again, her head turning to keep her eyes on the board.

 

_If I can't do anything else from Seattle..._

 

Max stops in front of the board, looking over the pictures of her in Seattle. “This board is _fucking_ useless!” She kicks the board as hard as she can. Time seems to crawl as she watches the pins and string and pictures fly. Falling to her knees, Max hugs herself, sobbing openly and deeply.

 

_How can I save you Chloe? How can I save you? I would do anything…_

 

**BANG**

 

Nathan’s gun discharges, tearing through Chloe’s stomach

 

Max yelps in pain

 

**BANG**

 

Jefferson stands above Chloe, callously executing her

 

Max’s yelp stretches into a miserable squeal

 

**BANG**

 

Thunder quakes as Chloe throws herself from a hotel balcony

 

Max’s squeal draws out into a horrifying shriek

 

**BANG BANG BANG**

 

Max’s body jerks with each bang bringing her closer and closer to balling up on her knees, her lungs aching as they try to maintain the scream breathlessly.

 

**CRRRAAAACK**

 

The wooden frame of Max’s bedroom door shatters and splinters, Vanessa Caulfield tumbles into the room.

 

“Max!” she cries out, crawling over the mess of pictures and pins

 

“Max!” Max hears Chloe call out

 

Max holds her eyes shut painfully tight, one hand sliding up the side of her face, fingers lacing through her hair and gripping. Her chest wrenches with each deep seated sob.

 

“Max!” Vanessa shakes Max “Maxine!”

 

Vanessa wriggles her fingers into Max’s hand, breaking the girl’s grip on her own hair. Max squeezes her mother’s left hand like a vise. Max pants shallow, rapid, and ragged. Each inhalation is a knife in her chest and each exhale is a weepy wheeze. Vanessa pulls Max into her chest, wrapping her other arm around her, stroking her head.

 

“It's okay, Max.” Vanasses assures her, “You’re going to be okay, honey.”

 

Max’s forehead butts up against Vanessa’s collarbone, bouncing with each sob. Vanessa holds her daughter tight, doing her best to comfort her until her breaths smooth and the tears stop.

 

_I can’t save Chloe. I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t._

 

“I can’t do this.” falls out of Max’s mouth, barely audible

 

“You can, Max. You’re so strong, baby. I know you can do this.” Vanessa tells her. Her own breath falters as she pauses. “Let's… get you up off the floor.” She helps Max stand, walking Max backwards until they hit the bed and sits her down. Vanessa sighs, putting her left hand on Max’s shoulder. She recoils, her hand stained with blood. Adrenaline wearing off, she feels stinging in her legs. Looking down, Vanessa finds her legs have become pincushions, a few pictures hanging from her. Seeing a red splotch on her shirt, she kneels in front of Max, turning her daughters head up.

 

“Your nose is bleeding again...” Vanessa winces in pain “I’m gonna get you some tissues, honey.”

 

Max sits, eyes still closed, hands limp on her knees. Vanessa heads to the bathroom where she extricates the pins from her legs before washing her hands and changing her shirt.

 

_I can’t do this. I can’t do this._

 

“You can, Max.” Vanessa’s voice flutters in Max’s ear

 

_I can’t save Chloe._

 

“My best friend is a superhero!” Chloe’s voice echoes in Max’s head

 

Max’s eyes shoot open. Time slows as Max’s eyes are drawn to a blue butterfly fluttering above her ruined cork board. Each flap of its wings sends shockwaves through Max’s ears. The butterfly slowly descends, coming to rest on two photographs. It turns to face Max, flapping its wings flagrantly. Max lunges from the bed, swiping the pictures from beneath the butterfly, sending it fluttering away. She turns the pictures over. The first, a photograph of Chloe and Joyce in a loving embrace. The second, Max’s photo of the butterfly from Blackwell’s girl’s room. Through tear soaked eyes, Max looks up to see the butterfly sitting on the open windowsill.

 

“What are you trying to tell me?!” she asks the butterfly, her voice straining

 

The butterfly flaps its near wing at Max twice before flying out the window.

 

_Joyce…_

 

Vanessa comes back into Max’s room, wiping Max’s face with a damp cloth.

 

_Mom…_

 

Max’s eyes remain transfixed on the two photographs as Vanessa finishes cleaning her face. Sight and sound wobble around Max’s head as she stares at the butterfly. She hears water drip and her Polaroid camera eject a photo before she realizes what she’s doing.

 

“No! Wait!” Max’s words stretch into nothingness as her consciousness travels into the past.

 

* * *

 

Max drops her camera, the butterfly on the bucket fluttering away.

 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Max mutters

 

_Okay think. Save Joyce. Maybe Chloe can cope if she has Joyce._

 

Max takes a pen from her bag and begins scribbling on the back of the Polaroid of the butterfly.

 

“ **Storm is REAL! Save Chloe! Save Joyce! Screw the town!** ”

 

Nathan comes in as she writes, monologuing to himself.

 

 _Dammit. Nathan. How do I get him to leave Chloe alone. Leave_ everybody _alone?_

 

Max pulls a random picture from her bag scribbling on the back of it as well.

 

“ **Nathan. I know about Rachel in the Dark Room. Leave Arcadia Bay.** ”

 

She takes a deep breath and reaches around the corner, sliding iit across the floor toward Nathan.

 

“Don’t be scared. You own this--” Nathan is cut short by the wound of the picture scratching across the floor “What the fuck?”

 

Nathan picks up the picture, reading Max’s message. He starts toward the corner where Max is hiding, his gun drawn. Suddenly the bathroom door opens, startling Nathan. He spins toward the door.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chloe whisper-yells at him

 

Nathan shoves his gun back into his jacket, stomping toward the door. “Get out of my fucking way.”

 

Nathan’s shoulder butts against Chloe’s, the photo tumbling to the floor. Chloe bends down to grab it.

 

“Hey asshole! You dropped…” she stops as she reads the message, crushing the picture in her hand and running after Nathan.

 

Max’s head peeks around the corner as her hand mashes the picture.

 

_No no no no no!_

 

The time bubble develops around her, solidifying the new timeline.

 

* * *

 

“Max, do you know the answer or not?” a voice behind Max commands

 

Max’s skin crawls. Her nails dig into the desk in front of her. Her lower eyelids draw up, twitching.

 

“Yes, Kate?” the voice changes targets

 

“Frederick… Archer?” Kate replies meekly

 

“Yes! Frederick Scott Archer invented the ambrotype. Good job, Kate” Max can hear the voice’s devilish grin.

 

Max feels as though her whole body is vibrating. A hand lays on her shoulder, causing her to jump.

 

“Max… are you alright?” Mark Jefferson swings around Max, hand still on her shoulder.

 

“Don’t move! Max you ruined my shot!” an echo of Jefferson’s voice rings through Max’s head, causing her to stand abruptly.

 

“I need to use the bathroom!” she shouts, briskly leaving the room.

 

Max’s chest tightens as she walks down the hall. She picks up her pace, each step gaining speed until she break into a full on sprint. She bursts through the doors into the sunlight, bending at the waist to catch her breath. She walks along the sidewalk, passing sheet after sheet of paper stapled and glued to every surface imaginable, barely taking notice of them, walking with her head down, clouded with thought.

 

_The storm didn’t happen. Chloe’s posters are still up. She’s still looking for Rachel._

 

Max sits on the stairs to the parking lot, collecting herself with a deep breath.

 

_How am I going to tell Chloe about Rachel?_

 

“Shouldn’t you be in class young lady?” A familiar voice rings out from behind Max.

 

Heavy bootsteps approach her, and pass her. David Madsen turns at the bottom of the stairs to face Max.

 

After a moment, Max’s brain unfreezes. “Sorry Mr. Madsen. I just needed some air.”

 

“Well… okay…” he says. He reaches under his arm and pulls a flyer from a stack. “Would you mind taking one of these while you’re out here?”

 

“Sure” Max takes it and reads.

 

**_MISSING_ **

 

**_MISSING FROM: ARCADIA BAY, OR_ **

 

**_DATE MISSING: TUESDAY OCTOBER 8, 2013_ **

 

_That’s… not right…_

 

**_D.O.B.: March 11, 1994_ **

 

_That’s…_

 

**_HEIGHT: 5’9”_ **

 

_No…_

 

**_HAIR COLOR: Blue Dyed / Strawberry Blonde_ **

 

_NO NO NO!_

 

**_CHLOE PRICE_ **

 

Max shoots up from her seat on the stairs. “NO! No this can’t be happening!”

 

“What is it?” David asks, shocked at her sudden mood swing

 

Max takes several heavy footed footsteps into the parking lot, head turning frantically.

 

“David! Where’s your car?” she turns and shouts

 

“What? How do you know my name?”

 

“Because… It doesn't matter!” she holds the now crinkled missing poster up “I think I know how to find Chloe.”

 

Minutes later David’s muscle car flies down the two lane highway out of Arcadia Bay, Max in the passenger seat.

 

“So are you gonna tell me who you are, girlie?” David leans his head toward Max, never taking his eyes off the road

 

“Did Joyce or Chloe ever mention Chloe’s best friend Max?” she asks him

 

“Yea. She moved away after Joyce’s first husband died.” he says

 

“Well I’m back…” she says sullenly

 

“What do you know about Chloe going missing, Max?” David’s eyes narrow as he weaves around two cars at high speed

 

“I can’t tell you. Just… drive.”

 

“Look!” David shouts “I don’t have to take orders from--”

 

“Turn here!” Max points out the window to a dirt road

 

David cuts the wheel, drifting off the pavement. A cloud of dust follows the car down the quarter mile stretch. David slams on the breaks, bringing them to a stop just short of a rusted through sign for American Rust. Max throws off her seatbelt, dashing through the junkyard at breakneck speed.

 

“Hey! Wait!” David yells, taking up pursuit

 

Max rounds the corner, images of chasing Chloe along this path flashing through her mind.

 

“No, God no.” Max pants, her hands digging into the dirt. “No, please, God!”

 

David catches up to her “Max! What are you-- Oh my good Lord.”

 

Max drops back on her heels, her arms falling to the sides. Her head slumps back as she wails.

 

David hits his knees running, his own hands disappearing into the soil, pulling it up by the handful.

 

**SNAP**

 

David slowly raises his hand, arm outstretched. Three bullets drangle from a cord wrapped around his hand.

 

“No. Please, God no!” he shouts “Not Chloe!”

 

David yells, his fist flying through the air and leaving a sizable dent in a piece of scrap metal.

 

“Who does this?” David’s voice goes quiet as he drops to his knees

 

“Who does this?” Chloe’s voice echoes through Max’s head “What kind of world does this?”

 

_I did this. Oh, God. I did this to Chloe._

 

“Who did this, Max?” David asks, suddenly calm

 

“It was…” Max hiccups and chokes on her snot and tears “Nathan… Nathan Prescott.”

 

David stands, turning to look at Max. “You’re sure?”

 

Max nods, gulping loudly. “And.. And Mark Jefferson…” Her hands raises shakily, finger pointing at the shallow grave. “This is where they buried Rachel, too.”

 

David unholsters his pistol, ejecting the magazine and checking that it is indeed loaded. He reholsters it.

 

“Thank you, Max.” he says flatly, fists clenched into ten white, dirt covered knuckles.

 

Max sobs, looking down into the unceremonious pit. In the distance she can hear David’s car start and drive away.

 

“I’m sorry, Chloe! I’m so sorry!” Max cries.

 

She fumbles with her messenger bag. Unable to work her hands she dumps its contents onto the ground.

 

“I can fix this, Chloe. I know I can fix this.” she says, holding up a photograph of a butterfly and a bucket.

 

Through teary eyes, Max focuses on the photograph, gritting her teeth as her sobs tear across the timestream.

 

**FLASH**

 

Max’s camera spits out the picture of the butterfly. She presses herself against the wall, her eyes already filling with tears.

 

_I just have to tell Nathan to leave like the first time. Then I can figure everything out._

 

Max’s fingers contort, the pads of her fingers gripping the wall as Nathan enters and begins monologuing. Chloe enters soon after. Max grits her teeth waiting for her time to intervene.

 

“Let’s talk bidness.” Chloe says to Nathan

 

Images of Chloe’s corpse in a shallow grave flash into Max’s mind.

 

_Stop!_

 

“I got nothing for you.” Nathan continues.

 

The picture of Chloe curled up on Nathan’s dorm room floor flashes before Max’s eyes

 

_No! No!_

 

Max begins to hyperventilate.

 

“I know you been pumpin' drugs n' shit to kids around here.” Chloe slides between Nathan and the door, slamming her hands on the side of the sink.

 

Images of Kate, Rachel, and Chloe in the dark room explode into Max’s head in rapid fire.

 

“Nobody would even miss your punk ass!” Nathan shouts

 

Visions of Nathan delivering a fatal gutshot to Chloe replay in Max’s mind.

 

A horrible guttural shriek rings through the bathroom as Max scrambles around the corner

 

“What the fuck?” Nathan turns just in time to see Max.

 

Max stumbles, a loud metallic **clang** reverberating through the room, but never stops in her rush toward Nathan. Nearing Nathan, Max’s right arm swings back, lifts high into the air, slamming down on top of Nathan’s head. Nathan instantly crumples.

 

Chloe recoils, back pressing against the door. “What the hell?”

 

Max stands before Nathan, crying and wheezing as images of the Dark Room and Kate’s, Rachel’s, and Chloe’s dead bodies bombard her mind.

 

Nathan slowly pushes himself to his knees. The top of his head has been caved in, his left eye bulging in it's socket.

 

“R-r-r-rrr” Nathan tries to speak.

 

Max’s eyes widen and her mouth gapes in horror at what she’s done.

 

“Rrrraaachhellll?” Nathan slurs, looking up at Max

 

Flashbulbs explode in Max’s minds eye. Visions of Rachel Amber restrained in the Dark Room.

 

_Rachel in the Dark Room. Rachel in the Dark Room._

 

Max scream at the top of her lungs, her right arm swinging around toward Nathan catching him on the left side of his face. Teeth go flying as Nathan falls to the side. Max drops to her knees, horrible noises escape her somewhere between aching sobs and primal screams. She raises both hands above her head. Chloe’s hand aimlessly searches for the door handle, her eyes unable to look away from the bloody hammer in Max’s hands as Max brings it down again and again into Nathan’s head, each blow accompanied by a punctuating yelp.

 

“Oh my fucking God.” Chloe covers her mouth with her hand, finally finding the handle and falls out the door into the hall.

 

Max's closed eyes open at Chloe’s words. She looks up to Chloe, her face mirroring the horror on Chloe’s. She looks down at what’s left of Nathan, dropping the hammer to the ground with a loud **clang**.

 

“Oh… shit…” As Max raises her hand to rewind, the sickly orange bubble of time comes to a close and locks these actions into reality.


	8. Hard Time (Arcadia Prison Blues)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains rape/non-con content. Proceed at your own risk.

Max’s consciousness rushes back to her body. Her senses return in waves. The first sense is touch. She feels something soft and squishy in her hand. She squeezes it. Whatever was in her hand squishes and crumbles, dropping. Sound is second.

 

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” a woman’s voice says “This is what? Maxwell Silver Hammer rebuking the Clovers?”

 

Max mouths wordlessly, her voice stuck in her throat.

 

“Fine. Have it your way.” the voice continues

 

Max’s vision flood back just in time see a blonde woman draped in orange wind her arm back, a fist flying straight into Max’s face.

 

Max groans, her head feeling as if it's splitting.

 

“Ugh, what happened?” Max asks nobody in particular, her head rolling with her eyes still closed

 

She goes to rub her head, only to feel a familiar tug at her wrists.

 

_Oh great. Handcuffed to another hospital bed?_

 

Max opens her eyes, looking up at a tall, dark woman standing beside her bed, adjusting Max’s IV.

 

“You’re a fucking idiot.” the woman says

 

“What’s going on?” Max tries to shake the cobwebs from her head.

 

She looks at the woman. Her curly black hair is pulled into a ponytail and she wears the same orange garb as the woman whose fist Max remembers flying into her face.

 

“ _Pine Bay Correctional Facility_ ” Max reads on the woman’s top

 

“Okay, I know O’Haley has a mean right hook, but she sure as shit didn’t knock you stupid” the woman scoffs “Did you really expect  to get away with that stunt?”

 

Max tries to shift to a more seated position. Looking around herself she can only imagine she’s in some kind of infirmary. “What stunt?”

 

“Bitch, please. Everybody in the mess saw you throw that shade on O’Haley.”

 

“I… What?” Max asks, trying to wrap her head around what happened in the seconds after returning to this timeline

 

“What? Does Maxwell Silver Hammer suddenly _not_ need the protection of the Clovers? You get tired of giving up a fucking muffin or cinnamon bun or who gives a shit in the mess? You been here seven fucking weeks. You oughta know how this works by now.” the woman pulls up a rolling stool and sits next to Max, watching her heart rate and blood pressure on the monitor.

 

“Protection?” Max repeats

 

“Or did you suddenly forget every single other bitch in this hellhole gunning to take down Maxwell Silver Hammer?” the woman raises an eyebrow and scoffs “Easy rep getting the girl that got that Prescott punk.”

 

Max’s heart sinks, thinking back to the bathroom. “I didn’t--”

 

“Yea yea. We’ve all heard it.” the woman takes up a mocking tone “I don’t know what happened! One second I was taking a picture of a pwetty pwetty butterfwy,” her tone becomes serious again “And the next I was sitting over the guy whose face I turned into mashed potatoes.”

 

Max bites her tongue, knowing she can’t refute the claim. Her eyes narrow as she looks away in disgust of everything. Herself most of all.

 

The woman stands and turns off the monitor. She removes Max’s IV and heart monitor with no regard for her patient’s comfort. She walks to the door.

 

“She’s fine. She can go back to her cell.” The woman tells the guard

 

The guard nods, walking over to Max’s bed. He removes the restraints holding Max’s arms down. Immediately he shackles her hands together and roughly pulls Max to her feet.

 

“Let’s go, Hammer.” his voice like sandpaper in Max’s ears

 

He leads Max from the infirmary. Each step down the corridor brings them closer and closer to the noise of the cellblock. The guard swipes his ID card, eliciting a loud buzz as the light above the door changes from yellow to green. As the door opens, the sound hits Max like waves. As she’s walked across the catwalk, Max notices the noise begin to die down. She feels knives being stared into her. Looking up from the ground, she sees dozens of women staring her down. Across the cell block she sees a group of women with red, orange, and blonde hair.

 

O’Haley sits on the table, turning her attention to Max, looking her dead in the eye. O’Haley’s brow furrows and Max’s face reddens as she brings her thumb to her neck, slicing across. Max becomes so transfixed on O’Haley that she doesn’t notice the woman hanging onto her cell bars until it's too late. Suddenly Max is pulled sideways, slamming into the steel bars. A pale arm slithers around her neck like a snake, pulling her tight.

 

“You’re gonna look really pretty in _my_ cell.” The voice coils into Max’s ear with with sickening familiarity

 

“Let her go, Sara!” the guard commands

 

The warm breath on Max’s ear sends shivers up her spine.

 

Sara chuckles softly into Max’s ear, whispering. “That’s exactly what I want to see. I’m gonna paint you _sooo pretty_.”

 

The guard pulls his baton from his belt, whacking the bars next to Sara’s head. She recoils, hissing like a viper. Max all but leaps away from the bars, turning and landing on her ass, her back against the catwalk railing. She stares into the dim cell as the guard lifts her by the shoulders.

 

“Next time I’ll put you in the hole, Jefferson.” the guard says, pointing the baton at Sara

 

Sara pounces back into the light, pushing up against the bars. “I’ll see you soon, Maxine.” she grins

 

“ _Jefferson_ ” the guards words bounce around Max’s head as she sees Sara’s face for the first time. Her short cropped hair and rectangular glasses are all too familiar. Max stands frozen, as the guard begins to pull her along, pushing her through the door of the cell next to Sara’s. The door closes with a heavy clang.

 

“Lights out in five!” the guard shouts

 

The women on the block begin to disperse to their cells. Max watches as the herd thins out. O’Haley is one of the last to leave, staring down Max with a grin, wiping the corner of her mouth with a thumb and cackling as she turns away. The high overhead lights shut off in a wave, each row shuttering with a loud bang. Max turns around, taking in her bare concrete cell. She curls up in the lumpy bed and sobs herself into exhaustion and eventually sleep.

 

“Time’s money, honey.” Chloe’s pockmarked face sneers from somewhere in the dark before fading away

 

Flashbulbs explode

 

“I have to sleep, Max!” Chloe’s pain contorted face whines, before flipping backwards into the darkness

 

Lightning cracks

 

Chloe’s horrified face shakes in disbelief, eyes wide with fear, and fades backwards into the ether

 

“Chloe, come back!” Max reaches out

 

BANG

 

The sound of the cell door sliding open wakes Max from her nightmare.

 

“Front and center, ladies!” a guard calls out

 

Max nervously walks out of her cell. Looking to either side and across the block she sees the other inmates standing outside their cell doors. She stands in line as well. Turning to her left she sees Sara Jefferson visually measuring Max up and down. Turning quickly to the left Max sees a long line of women of all classes and creeds.

 

“All present and accounted for!” a second guard yells, walking by Max

 

“Shower time, ladies!” the first guard yells.

 

Max marches in time with the other women, following the line ahead of her as her only sense of direction. Sara is almost breathing down Max’s neck she’s so close, but she remains silent save for her heavy breaths. After waiting as long as physically possible, Max reluctantly strips herself of her orange jumpsuit.

 

“Don’t drop the soap.” Sara laughs

 

Max cringes.

 

_What is it with Jeffersons and being fucking creeps?_

 

Heart beating out of her chest, Max walks on eggshells to the nearest available showerhead. She does her best to conceal her modesty as she turns the water on, jumping at the cold and eliciting a laugh from some of the other inmates. Max wraps one arm around her chest, the other hand covering below her waist, standing under the lukewarm stream trying to put her mind anywhere but here. The murmurs around her build louder and louder and then stop. Suddenly, Max is pushed against the wall in front of her.

 

“I been waiting for you to fuck up, Hammer.” a husky woman’s voice belts out. One of her hands holds Max’s hair, the other trails down her back. “Without them Clovers in the way you’re mine.” The hand continues to trail down into the small of Max’s back as she whimpers, beginning to flash back to the Dark Room.

 

“Back off bitch! Caulfield’s mine!” a voice calls out through the haze of Max’s mind

 

_Chloe?!_

 

Max’s head is tugged back by the hair, then let go flinging her into the wall. Max spins around, bracing herself against the wall. To her amazement Sara Jefferson is holding the much larger woman in a choke hold, her nails digging into the woman’s face.

 

“Okay, okay!” Max’s would-be rapist yells

 

Sara swings her, letting her tumble on the slick floor. “Anybody else have a problem with that?” she asks the room, walking toward Max. The room falls silent, save for the waterfalling showers. “Good.” she says, pulling Max from the wall. Max freezes like a deer in headlights as Sara’s hand coils around Max’s left side and grabs a big handful of her ass. “This ass is mine.” Sara announces, leading a beet red Max out of the tiled hell.

 

“Put this on.” Sara commands, tossing a fresh jumpsuit to Max, stepping into her own. Max throws on the jumpsuit faster than she’s ever dressed in her life. Sara pulls a grey bandana from her pocket, shoving it into Max’s hand. “Don’t let go of this, got it?”

 

Max stares at the bandana in her hand, still dumbstruck over the events in the shower.

 

“I don’t like repeating myself. Do you understand?” Sara repeats calmly but intently

 

“Y-Yes.” Max stammers

 

Sara snatches the end of the bandana and tugs it from Max’s hand. “What did I _just_ tell you?”

 

Sara brings her arm across her chest winding up to backhand Max. Fear in her eyes, Max rewinds, the bandana returning to her hand. She grips it tight in her fist.

 

“Got it?” Sara asks again for the first time

 

“Got it.” Max says coldly looking at Sara’s face, finding it difficult to not see Mark Jefferson’s features.

 

Sara grabs the end of the bandana and tugs, Max’s grip remaining firm. “Good girl.” She tucks the other end of the bandana in her left pocket. “Come now, Maxine.”

 

Max dips forward, stumbling, she rushes to keep up as Sara begins walking back to the cell block. Max’s face flushes again as the other women gawk and whisper amongst themselves as she follows closely behind Sara. Max’s eyes wander, landing upon O’Hayley and her posse, presumably the Clovers.

 

“Eyes on me, Maxine. Don’t give the Clovers another thought.” Sara commands, never looking back.

 

_How did she know?_

 

“I want you to put them as far from your mind as possible. I need you _tranquil_ , Maxine.”

 

Max does as she’s told, her eyes finding center between Sara’s shoulder. Max reads the words “Pine Bay Correctional Facility” over and over, focusing on keeping up and keeping the bandana in her hand and Sara’s pocket. Her breaths quicken as in fearful anticipation as they approach Max’s and Sara’s cells. Sara waltzes past Max’s cell and through the open door into her own, dragging Max behind.

 

“You can let go now.” Sara tell the girl.

 

Max’s eyes remain trained on Sara, her arm clutching her elbow out of nervous habit.

 

Sara rolls her eyes “Oh for fuck’s sake. Calm down. If I wanted to hurt you I would do it out there where everybody can see. Now be a good girl and sit.” Sara motions to the bed.

 

Max’s eyes never break from their tunnel vision focus. “Why are you doing this?” Max asks, sitting sheepishly as Sara bends to rummage through a box in the corner of her cell.

 

“Doing what?” she quickly retorts, straightening up with a canvas in her hands. She pulls a collapsible easel from under the bed, setting it up between the bed and the toilet, sitting on the seatless bowl. “I refuse to let those troglodytes harm a single hair on the head of my new muse.” Sara holds her arm out with her thumb up. “Turn toward me, Maxine.”

 

Max turns, her face scrunching in fear and confusion, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

 

“Whole body, Maxine.”

 

Max turns her body to face Sara, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back turned to the rest of the prison. Max suddenly realizes that unlike her own cell, the walls of Sara Jefferson’s cell are covered in paintings. Some are landscapes. Others are other inmates. Others still appear to be nonsense. They all share a common trait however: each painting is composed entirely in black and white.

 

“Please stop crying, Maxine. If you don’t cease that foolishness this instant I won’t be able to paint your portrait. If I can’t paint your portrait then I can’t _continue_ to paint you.” Sara scowels, licking her teeth behind her lips. “And if I can’t paint you, then you’re of no use to me.”

 

Max’s body immediately tenses up. She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes her nose on her arm before gripping the edge of the cot.

 

“Stop--Just--” Sara stands and walks over to Max, pulling her hands from their grip. “Hands…” she places Max’s hands on her knee “Here.” Digging her fingers into the soft tissue of Max’s shoulders and pushing she commands “Shoulders down…Back straight…” she applies pressure to the small of Max’s back.

 

Max sits up straight, her body complying with Sara’s posing demands.

 

Sara steps back and looks her subject up and down. “Much better. Now just be a good girl and _stay_.” she steps back around the easel, taking up her brush and beginning to mark the canvas.

 

For over an hour Max sits as still as possible, only her eyes moving to take in the makeshift gallery around her.

 

_Did she paint all of these? They’re… amazing._

 

Max’s eyes trail further from the center, the paintings taking on a more and more familiar style, raising Max’s pulse.

 

_Some of these are scary close to Mr. Jefferson’s photos._

 

A loud buzzer rings through the cell block.

 

“Fuck.” Sara sighs “Breakfast. Don’t even think about moving, Maxine. I need you to stay posed.”

 

“But I’m hungry!” Max whines, turning her head to face Sara.

 

“No buts, Maxine.” Sara turns her head back. “I’ll bring you back something. At this rate you may be able to take a break at lunch. But until then… I need my muse to stay still.” She kisses Max on the forehead.

 

Seeing no choice but to comply, Max, stunned by the odd display of affection, remains seated. A few minutes later Max begins to stretch her neck, confident that Sara will not return while she is doing so. She turns her head to take in even more of Sara’s paintings. Max’s heart sinks in her chest when she sees the painting hanging above the inside of the cell door. She physically recoils at the near-photorealistic painting of Mark Jefferson himself. His smarmy face smirks at Max. Hearing footsteps coming back toward the cell, Max quickly puts herself back into her prescribed pose.

 

“Banana nut muffin.” Sara holds the unwrapped muffin in front of Max’s face, the scent wafting into her nose.

 

Max’s mouth waters from the delicious smell. Her hand reaches to take the muffin from Sara, eliciting a stinging slap.

 

“Did I say you could move?!” Sara roars, throwing the muffin on the floor and stomping it

 

“I-I’m sorry…” Max says, tearing up again

 

“You should be.” Sara says callously

 

Max’s stomach growls loudly.

 

“I don’t want to hear another word until I tell you.” Sara sits back down, nose scrunched in anger as she picks her brush up and resumes her painting.

 

_If I don’t eat I might pass out. If she slapped me like that for trying to grab a muffin I can’t risk what she might do then._

 

Max rewinds, Sara standing back up, walking backwards toward her, the muffin flying from the floor back into Sara’s hand, her other hand flying backwards in reverse, and walking backwards out of the room. Max releases the rewind and Sara returns.

 

“Banana nut muffin.” Sara holds the unwrapped muffin to Max’s face

 

“Thank you, Sara.” Max pauses nervously, licking her lips. “May I eat?”

 

“You may, Maxine.” Max’s docile tone piques Sara’s intrigue

 

Max’s body remains still in pose, her head moving only slightly as she leans forward, nibbling at the muffin in Sara’s hand.

 

A devilish grin works it way into the corners of Sara’s face. “My my…” she sings “What an obedient bitch you are.”

 

Max’s face begins to redden again, moaning softly from the delicious muffin. In moments Max finishes devouring the muffin. Sara wipes the crumbs on the leg of her jumpsuit before returning to her seat.

 

“Let’s continue, shall we Maxine?”

 

“Let’s.” Max puts on the most genuine looking smile possible.

 

“No smiling. Neutral face.”

 

Max immediately drops her cheeks, her expression going as blank as possible again.

 

Several hours into the second portion of the session, Max can’t help but speak.

 

“Why do they let you have these art supplies?” she asks

 

“I told you not to speak, Maxine. Do I need to--” Sara is cut off

 

“Good behavior, or so they say.” O’Haley’s Irish accent cuts through the air.

 

Max freezes, avoiding turning toward her.

 

“Get out of here, O’Haley. Maxine is done with the Clovers. I do believe she got the message.” Sara says coldly

 

“Oi, can’t an Irishwoman check up on a fellow lass of the Emerald Isle?” O’Haley quips

 

“She’s none of your concern, O’Haley. Nor that of the Clovers. Not after yesterday.” Sara continues painting, speaking directly and calmly

 

“Aye, I seen you’ve delivered the message to Bertha. _Hand_ delivered.” Haley O’Haley raises a brow

 

“That… savage… had it coming.” Sara pauses “Would you kindly leave us to our work?”

 

“Fine. ‘Ave it your way. We’ll be seeing you soon, Caulfield. Real soon.” O’Haley raises two fingers to her brow and flicks them at Max, leaning off the doorway and walking back to the open area of the cell block.

 

Max can’t help but ponder the meaning of O’Haley’s words as Sara continues to paint, humming a familiar tune that Max can’t place. After another few hours, the buzzer rings. Max’s eyes look to Sara hopefully. She looks to Max, holding her eyes on Max for a few moments that feel like an eternity before returning her gaze to the painting.

 

“Okay. Let’s get you something to eat before you pass out.” Sara says, sticking the bandana back in her pocket as she moves to the cell door.

 

Max remains seated, a thousand yard stare behind Sara’s easel.

 

“You may move now, Maxine.” Sara nods her head.

 

Max stands, stretching briefly before moving behind Sara and taking the bandana in her hand.

 

Sara chuckles softly “I may have you too well trained.”

 

Max follows Sara, bandana in hand, to the mess hall. They each grab a tray of food, Max carrying hers with one hand, and make their way to a table.

 

“Sit, Maxine. Enjoy your lunch.”

 

Max cautiously sits next to Sara, her elbows tucked in as she hunches over her tray. She gulps down spoonful after spoonful of the foul tasting food. Finishing hastily, she reaches back to the bandana, sitting quietly as the conversations carry on around her.

 

“She’s been very cooperative.” Sara says, “Isn’t that right, Maxine.”

 

“Y-Yes.” Max stutters

 

“Maybe I can take her off your hands?” a woman across the table says. She flips her black hair out of her face, pulling a full pack of cigarettes from her pocket and sliding them across the table to Sara.

  
Sara picks the pack up, twirling it in her hand in thought. Max’s heart skips several beats before Sara slides the pack back.

 

“She’s worth more to me than that.” Sara’s hand creeps up Max’s back to the nape of her neck “Much, much more.” She turns to Max. “Maxine, be a dear and bus our trays, won’t you?”

 

Max nods silently, grabbing both the steel trays and standing. Within her first steps toward the trash can, she hears a horrible shriek. Spinning around, Max sees Sara sprawled on her back on the bench seat of the lunch table, a deep red splotch growing on her side. Her arms are raised to protect herself from the woman standing menacingly over her. Bertha.

 

Max’s entire body trembles. Something builds slowly in her belly. A warm feeling that soon turns fiery hot. Her shoulders raise and lower rhythmically with her shortening breaths. “You bitch!” Max screams. Bertha turns at her, pure evil in her eyes.

 

Max begins walking toward Bertha, trays in her left hand. She raises her right hand, sending time spinning backwards. From this angle Max can see Bertha make her approach, shank in hand. Rewinding to just before Bertha’s attack, she sets time back in motion.

 

“YAAAAAH!” Max shouts, bringing the stacked trays down sideways onto Bertha’s wrist with all her might. A loud cracking sound tears through the mess hall followed by a deafening silence broken only by the sound of the shank dropping to the floor.

 

“Oh fuck!” Bertha yells “You broke my wrist! You fucking cunt!”

 

Max raises the trays again and brings them down on Bertha’s head as hard as she can, knocking the woman out cold. Max drops to her knees, sobbing.

 

“What the fuck just happened, Maxine?” Sara turns half way around on the bench

 

“She was…” Max pants “She was about to stab you.”

 

“And you... Saved me.” Sara looks down at the shank on the ground.

 

Several heavily armored guards rush into the mess hall. The leader of the phalanx shouting commands. “Everybody back to your cells! We’re going on lockdown!”

 

* * *

 

Max wakes up to the sound of the cell door banging open. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, she doesn’t remember having dreamed. Stepping out onto the catwalk, she looks left, nodding at Sara. Sara returns the nod. Again they walk to the showers, Max slowing down to let Sara ahead of her.

 

“Keep going, Maxine.” Sara commands

 

Max strips again, more confident in her safety than the morning before but still struggling to stay modest. She steps under the water, closing her eyes. Breathing deeply her head swims with thoughts of Chloe.

 

“You didn’t forget about me, did you, Max?” Chloe’s voice worms into Max’s ear

 

_Never, Chloe. I could never._

 

“Good. I miss you, Max.” the voice says

 

_I miss you so much, Chloe. I just want to see you again. I want to feel you again._

 

“I want to feel you too, Max.”

 

Max feels a hand slide on her hip, snaking around to her belly. Her eyes remaining closed, she sighs “ _Chloe…_ ”

 

A second hand wraps itself around Max’s belly, the first walking fingers up Max’s abdominals, sliding in between Max’s arm and her chest, cupping her breast gently. Max bites her lip, thoughts of her blue hair devil racing through her mind as she feels a slender body press into her from behind, kisses on her neck as breasts press into her back.

 

“Mmm. Chloe…” Max whispers breathlessly, her voice lost in the shower stream

 

Teeth lightly nibble at Max’s neck, a hand trailing down below Max’s waist. Max gasps, drawing in a surprised breath. The hand stops. Max, visions of Chloe swirling in her mind, nods and the hand continues down, fingers daintily playing Max like a delicate instrument. Kisses and nibbles on her neck, two hands taking control of her body and Chloe’s image dancing through her mind, Max’s body shudders in ecstasy, eliciting a loud, drawn-out moan.

 

“Hey! Break it up, ya fuckin dykes!” A female guard shouts, snapping Max out of her trance.

 

Max’s eyes shoot open. She looks down, seeing that the arm wrapped around her lacks Chloe’s signature tattoo. She throws her arms out, pulling herself out of the embrace, turning around and coming face to face with Sara Jefferson.

 

She grins cheekily. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Maxine. Very glad indeed.”

 

The guard walks over, turning the shower off. “Get the fuck back to your cellblock.”

 

Sara walks back to the changing area, the grin immovable from her face. Max follows close after, head hung low in shame. Jumpsuits back on, Max follows Sara back to her cell, hanging onto the bandana all the way. She sits back down on the bed as close as possible to yesterday as Sara takes her seat in front of the easel.

 

“Did you not enjoy yourself, Maxine?” Sara stops her brushstrokes, leaning from behind the canvas.

 

“I…” Max’s face turns deeply red, burning like the sun as she looks down at the floor

 

“Ah. Posture.” Sara reminds her

 

Max returns to looking at Sara “I thought you were someone else…”

 

Sara brush returns to the canvas. “Must have been someone special then. You took to me like a fish to water.”

 

After a long silence Sara smiles warmly. “You’re such a good model, Maxine. I want you to know that.”

 

“Th-Thank you, Sara.” Max says quietly

 

An hour of silent painting later the buzzer sounds, signalling breakfast.

 

“Come, Maxine. Let’s eat.” Sara commands

 

Max stands, dutifly following. After a quick meal they return, each taking their spot.

 

After another long stretch of silence, Sara speaks.

 

“Something’s changed about you, Maxine.”

 

Max’s chest tightens. “What do you mean?”

 

“The day the O’Haley put you in the infirmary. Something changed. I could see it in your eyes.” she explains

 

“My eyes?”

 

“I saw the innocence in your eyes die.” Sara’s eyes narrow “Just before O’Haley clocked you.”

 

_When I snapped back. She can’t know. Can she?_

 

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean.” Max lies

 

“Don’t lie to me, Maxine.” Sara snaps back “But more importantly, don’t apologize. One of the most advantageous perks of painting in prison… I can capture that fleeting innocence.”

 

Max’s head spins, thinking of Mark Jefferson. “I'm obsessed with the idea of capturing that moment innocence evolves into corruption.” Mark Jefferson’s words reverberate in Max’s head.

 

“Caulfield!” A guard calls from the doorway. “Visitor.”

 

Max looks to Sara expectantly. Sara nods in confirmation and Max stands, following the guard. After a long walk down a hallway and around many corners, the guard seats Max in a large room looking almost like a school cafeteria, her hands and legs shackled. Max looks around the room wondering who could be her visitor.

 

 _Mom? Dad? I wonder if they’ve_ ever _visited me._

 

An alarm buzzes, turning Max’s attention to a door. It swings open, a guard walking in followed closely by Joyce Price.

 

_Oh, shit._

 

“Hello, Max.” Joyce says, taking a seat across from Max.

 

Max’s hand ball into fists as she begins to cry. “I… Joyce… I…”

 

“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life, Max.” Joyce takes Max’s hands in hers

 

“I…” The flow of tears stems as she looks up at Joyce

 

“You saved her from the psychopath, Max. I can’t thank you enough for every day I get to spend with her.” Joyce begins to tear up.

 

“Where… Where is Chloe?” Max chokes out

 

“She… still doesn’t want to see you.” Joyce looks down at the table “I’m sorry, Max.”

 

Max feels her heart break in two. She buries her head in her arms and sobs. “Chlo-e!” she wails

 

Joyce delicately strokes Max’s head “Shh... Shh… It’ll be okay, baby. She’ll come around.” She continues to pump coos and sweet nothings to comfort Max until the girl’s tears stop.

 

For the next half hour or so after, Joyce regales Max with stories of Chloe’s days during their time apart, finding herself choking up herself when the topic of Rachel Amber surfaces. Both feel somewhat relieved when the guard interrupts, telling them that time is up.

 

“Joyce…” Max starts

 

Joyce looks to Max.

 

“Next time you visit… can you bring your photo album?”

 

“Sure, Max.” Joyce smiles weakly

 

After the long walk back, Max sits just in time for the lunch buzzer to sound. After another quick and uneventful meal, she sits on Sara’s bed again.

 

“Good visit?” Sara asks, taking up her brush again

 

“Yea. Real good.” Max smiles thinking of the potential in the hopefully-soon-to-be-coming photo album

 

“As much as I love to see that pretty smile, Maxine, I still need your face.” Sara tells her

 

Max forces her face back to neutral.

 

“But I _am_ happy for you.” Sara adds

 

The two continue into the night, Sara finally letting Max return to her own cell after last call. Drifting off to sleep, Max’s dreams are plagued with visions of Chloe Price and Sara Jefferson morphing back and forth between their two faces.

 

“I think you liked it, Max.” Sara’s voice taunts

 

“Oh, she definitely liked it.” Chloe says as the face morphs

 

“Because she thought it was you?” the face morphs to Sara

 

“No, I don’t think soooo.” Chloe’s voice sings mid morph

 

Max shoots up out of bed as the cell doors clang, stepping out into line.

 

Over the next several weeks, Max settles into a consistent schedule. Wake up, shower, sit for Sara’s painting, eat breakfast, sometimes from Sara’s hand depending on the woman’s mood, more painting, lunch, even more painting, dinner, and finally more painting until Sara bores of it. Later into the evenings Sara sits next to Max, wrapping an arm around her and cozying up friendily, or perhaps Max can’t help but wonder, fiendishly. Over the weeks their conversations become longer and deeper giving Max a comfort she hadn’t known for far too long.

 

“Another visit tomorrow?” Sara asks, twirling her hand through Max’s hair.

 

“Mhmm.” Max nods, nuzzled into the woman’s shoulder.

 

“You’d better get some sleep then.” Sara says, kissing Max’s forehead. Max feared how normal it felt after such a short time, comforting even. Sara uncoils her arm from Max, letting it dangle off the girl as she stands. “Goodnight, Maxine, sweetie.”

 

Max crawls into her bunk, sighing deeply.

 

_This feels wrong._

 

“Why? Because it's not me?” Chloe’s voices sounds in Max’s ear

 

_Yes. I love you, Chloe._

 

“I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Max.” the voice continues

 

_That’s all I want for you too…_

 

“You seem happy all things considered. Y’know. For being in prison and all.” Chloe’s voice taunts

 

_I…_

 

Max’s though is cut off as Sara enters her cell. “It's dry.” she beams. “Just… sit up and close your eyes.”

 

Max sits, closing her eyes.

 

“Okay. Open!” Sara giggles giddily

 

Max opens her eyes and her jaw drops. Propped up against the wall is an stunning black and white portrait of Max Caulfield. The only color is in the vibrant blue eyes. Sara saunters over to stand next to Max.

 

“Oh my God, Sara.” Max looks at her and back to the portrait “This is beautiful!”

 

“Well, Maxine.” Sara whispers, her hand gently taking Max’s chin in her hand, turning it up so Max looks at her. “I don’t make beauty... I only capture it.” She leans in and kisses Max on the lips. Max doesn’t resist, feeling a dark electricity in her heart.

 

“Are you happy, Max?” Chloe’s voice returns

 

_Yessss_

 

“Lights out in five!” a guard yells, breaking up the kiss

 

“Goodnight, Maxine. We start a new painting in the morning.” Sara leans in the door briefly before parting.

 

Max drifts off to sleep smiling. In her dream she walks through a gallery hand in hand with Sara. Wall to wall they look at a mixture of Max’s photography and Sara’s paintings. It feels like hours spent talking, laughing, and explaining the finer points of each’s medium to the other. Suddenly the gallery walls start to crumble.

 

“What’s happening?” Max recoils

 

“No! No! Noooo!” Sara shouts

 

Max’s eyes shoot open in the dark, she feels a heavy pressure all over her body. She tries to scream but a hand cups over her mouth.

 

“The model finally woke up.” a dark silhouette whispers in a husky voice

 

_Oh God oh God_

 

“Are we doing this or not?” another woman’s voice says, Irish accent clear as crystal

 

Max pants heavily into the hand in panic, struggling against whatever holds her limbs.

 

“I am.” the husky voice says, it's owner leaning down into Max’s face. Rank breath fills Max’s nostrils. “I told you you were mine.”

 

Max screams into the hand over her mouth as she feels her jumpsuit being torn off her shoulders.

 

“MMMM! MMMMMMMNMMM!” she tries to scream, thrashing as hard a she can. The jumpsuit comes down past Max’s legs. In a panic she bites the hand. “Sara!” Max screams at the top of her lungs.

 

Sara shoots up in bed “Max?!” She rushes to the bars, her arms reaching through as if there was a chance to pull the rest of her body out. Sara runs to her bed, pulling a hand mirror from under the bed, using it's reflection to see into Max’s cell, something she had often done without Max’s knowledge. The mirror falls from her hand, shattering. “Guard!” Sara belts out “Guard!” she shouts, swinging from the bars.

 

Max jumps at the cold hand on her back. She stares at the portrait, focusing on the blue eyes. The bright blue eyes. Tears fall from Max’s own blue eyes as her body gives out, unable to fend off her attackers any longer. She sobs into the hand over her mouth, defenseless.

 

“Guard!” Sara continues to scream “Somebody get a god damn guard!”

 

But the guards never come.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the cell doors slide open, Sara bolts out of her cell and into Max’s.

 

“Oh God.” she puts her hand to her mouth, backing out “Guard!” she rasps, hoarse from screaming all night to deaf ears. “Guard! Help!”

 

Two guards come running, looking into the cell.

 

“Oh, Jesus.” the short one says, stepping into the cell

 

The taller guard takes out his radio. “Get a stretcher to Cellblock C.”

 

“No time,” the short guard says “Help me!”

 

The two guards carry Max out of the cell on her mattress.

 

“Get this block locked down!” the short guard shouts, a siren going off shortly after, riot guards storming into the block to force the women back into their cells.

 

Meanwhile Max’s head swirls in a land of dreams and nightmares.

 

“Everything went to shit after Dad left…” Chloe says

 

“We’re all going to work at the Two Whales!” William laughs

 

“Why didn’t you try to save my dad?” Another Chloe wails

 

“I tried, Chloe!” Max cries

 

“Not hard enough!” Chloe shouts, throwing money at a diner table

 

“She doesn’t want to see you, Max.” Joyce sighs

 

Chloe’s disgusted, horrified face runs away from Max.

 

Max reaches out, trying to reverse the flow of time. Her eyes shoot open in the infirmary.

 

“What do you mean I can’t see her?” Joyce shouts to the guard at the desk

 

“She’s in the infirmary, Ma’am.” he relays

 

“What happened?!” she demands

 

“I don’t know, Ma’am.”

 

“I want to see her right now!”

 

“I can’t let you do that, Ma’am.”

 

“I am this girl’s mother!” Joyce lies through her teeth “If you don’t let me see her this instant, I’ll sue you and this prison until your grandchildren’s wages are garnished!”

 

“I.. Umm…” the guard stammer. He pulls out his radio “Is Silver Hammer awake yet.”

 

“Yes. Just woke up. She’s still pretty rough.” the voice on the other end says

 

“Tell her that her mom is here.” he says into the radio

 

“You know she can’t have visitors in the infirmary.” the voice says

 

Max grabs the radio “Please… Please…” she sputters voicelessly, beginning to sob.

 

“This is Warden Mackey.” another voice comes over the radio “Get her a badge.”

 

A few minutes later, Joyce walks into the infirmary flanked by a guard on either side.

 

“Max?” she calls out

 

“Over here.” the tall dark nurse waves Joyce over.

 

Rounding the corner, Joyce’s hand flies to cover her mouth. “Oh, Max.”

 

Max’s body is covered from head to toe in bruises and scrapes. Her arm is in a sling, her leg in a cast. A nose guard covers her broken nose. Joyce walks over slowly, trying to gently hug Max, causing her to wince in pain.

 

“Did you bring it?” Max rasps

 

“I… The album?” Joyce tilts her head

 

Max nods silently.

 

“It's… It's right here, Max.” she pats her purse “I think we have bigger problems right now than reminiscing over old photos though.”

 

“Please… I need to remember something to hang on to.” Max’s eyes begin to well up, causing Joyce’s to do the same.

 

“Okay, Max…” Joyce pulls up a chair, opening the album. She lets Max study the pictures, pointing out ones for which she has a good memory or funny story. Nearing the end of the book, she stops. “This one… I remember this.” Joyce wipes a tear from her eye. She points to a picture of Max and Chloe sitting in the front seat of William’s car, the hood up as William tinkers with the engine. “This was the week before…”

 

“I.. I’m having trouble seeing, Joyce.” Max coughs, sucking in oxygen through the tube in her nose. “Can you.. Can you hold it up for me?”

 

“Yea, Max.” Joyce says sadly, slipping the photo from it's sleeve and holding it half a foot from Max’s face.

 

Max tears up, focusing on the photo. Young Chloe’s giggle swirls in her ear.

 

“See girls? These are carbon deposits…” William’s voice trails off

 

Max’s head throbs in the most horrible pain she’s ever felt, blood begins pouring from both nostrils as the room begins to vibrate wildly around her.

 

“Max?” Joyce says, her hand still steadily holding the photo

 

A low whine from Max’s mouth turns into a shriek as she hears the click of William’s polaroid camera as Joyce and the nurse both shoot up from their seats. Elsewhere in the prison Sara Jefferson leaps through in the air toward the Clovers, shard of glass in hand, as time freezes and Max’s consciousness makes yet another journey across the fabric of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well damn, that one was a doozy. Thank you for sticking through to the end of the chapter. I know it was a rough one. Rougher than the rest, which you probably thought impossible. I had a lot of fun writing Sara Jefferson this chapter. I hope you loved her as much as I did.


	9. This Sorrowful Life

Max snaps awake in her thirteen year old self with a loud gasp, her body collapsing forward as she tries to breath. Her forehead slams into the center of the steering wheel, honking the horn. William, who had been bent over the engine, shoots up straight hitting his head on the inside of the hood with a loud bang. Chloe throws her head back laughing.

 

“Are you okay, Bill?” Joyce gasps

 

William rubs the back of his head “Yea, hon. I’m fine.”

 

“Okay. Good.” Joyce shakes the instant picture out. “I’ll get started on dinner.”

 

“Sounds good. We’re almost done in here.” William chuckles, walking around to the side of the car as Joyce returns to the kitchen. He leans into the open driver’s side window. “Just don’t do that again, Max, or next time I’m letting Chloe drive, okay?” William winks and smiles.

 

Max nods silently.

 

William holds up a spark plug with black gunk on it. “See this black stuff?” he says, turning it so the girls can see. “Carbon deposits. That’s no good. So we’ll switch the spark plugs out real quick and everything should be right as rain, right?”

 

“Can I help, Dad?” Chloe asks her father, almost bouncing the in passenger seat

 

William chuckles again “Sure, lemme show you, sweetie.”

 

Max watches Chloe climb out of the door and run around to the front of the car. Max’s eyes shoot around in a tizzy.

 

_I need to change something. Anything. Anything that can change things._

 

“Just a little… more…” William says on the other side of the hood

 

Max turns her head frantically looking all over the garage. She hastily searches the interior of the car, finding nothing useful.

 

“Got it!” Chloe shouts giddily

 

Max’s heart drops in her chest.

 

“Okay, Max. Start it up. Just like I showed you.” William calls out

 

Trembling, Max’s thirteen year old hand reaches for the ignition. Turning the key, the car roars to life.

 

William closes the hood, dusting his hands off “Good as new.” he smiles at Chloe, standing by his side.

 

“And I helped!” Chloe beams

 

“You both did.” William smiles at his daughter and turns to Max, looking at her through the windshield. “Okay, Max. You can turn it off now, honey. Let’s go eat.”

 

Max freezes, her mind a swirling panic.

 

_Change something. If nothing changes. Nothing will change. What do I do?_

 

“Max?” William’s face becomes worried

 

“Max, are you okay?” Chloe’s face goes blank

 

Suddenly Max reaches for the gearshift, putting the car in reverse and slamming on the gas.

 

“Max!” Chloe and William both scream, William’s hand reaching out

 

_Oh fuck!_

 

William’s car careens backwards through the open garage door and down the driveway toward the road, Max it's lone passenger. A loud horn sounds somewhere to Max’s right as the bubble of time collapses, making Max’s meddling history.

 

* * *

 

Max feels as though her body is floating weightless. She can see only darkness. Hear only silence. A deafening silence and blinding darkness she never thought possible. She knows she should be scared. Instead, Max feels a strange peace radiating throughout her. A calmness with which she is not familiar.

 

“Where… am… I…?” Max feels her mouth move but no sound comes

 

A cold pressure overtakes Max, enveloping her, pushing into her from all sides and feeling as if she’s being pulled upwards. Suddenly aware of her inability to breathe, Max begins to panic, her brain sending impulses to flail her limbs wildly.

 

The darkness falls away, giving way to shimmering blue light. A weak burbling sound fills Max’s ears as she continues to float upwards toward the light.

 

SPLASH

 

Max breaches the surface, flailing about struggling to fill her lungs with air.

 

“Why look. An otter in my water.” Chloe giggles, swimming closer to Max

 

“No! No, no no no!” Max’s eyes go wide, splashing about trying to swim away from Chloe

 

Max reaches the edge of the pool, panting loudly. She turns around to see Chloe floating on her back.

 

“I wish Rachel was here.” Chloe sighs

 

Max squeezes her eyes closed tight

 

Chloe turns her head in the water “Do you wish Sara was here?”

 

“What?!” Max says out of breath, her eyes shooting open

 

“I said I double dare you. Kiss me now!” Chloe smiles, standing in front of Max

 

Max steps forward to kiss Chloe, but stops mid step.

 

_What the--_

 

Looking down, Max sees she’s already wearing Rachel’s flannel and jeans but she’s soaking wet, dripping on the floor.

 

Turning her head to look back to Chloe she finds herself back in the pool, dipping under the water briefly before pulling herself back up on the edge.

 

“What the hell is happening?” Max manages to cry out through gritted teeth

 

“Don’t look so sad. I’m never leaving you…” Chloe sighs

 

“That makes all of us.” William Price’s voice echoes in the empty natatorium

 

“Stop! Stop stop stop!” Max screams, shaking her head, back pressed against the wall of the pool

 

William walks to the edge of the diving board, jumping up a few times before diving into the water, fully clothed. Moments later, his body limply floats to the surface. Max screws her eyes shut and screams.

 

“What are you screaming for?” Chloe’s voice rings out in chorus

 

Max freezes, her eyes popping open. A group of Chloes stand before Max in a twisted amalgamation of rooms, butting against and phasing through each other. Max tries to turn away, but she’s surrounded by more Chloes than she can count.

 

“Afraid to face the consequences of your actions” the chorus continues “Caulfield?” “Max?” “SuperMax?” “Hippie?” “Sweetie?” “Time Warrior?” “Baby?” the chorus members all end differently, but still in unison calling out more names than Max can make out.

 

Max falls to her knees, clutching her churning stomach with one hand, bracing herself from falling further with the other. “I just--” her chest heaves in a wet sob.

 

“Wanted to help.” The chorus rings, some stating as a fact, other asking as a question. Some voices reassuring, other accusatory. “I’m sorry, but that just isn’t in the cards. But… you knew that, didn’t you?” the mixed emotion chorus continues.

 

“No!” Max shouts, raising her head “I don’t know that!”

 

“Then what are you trying to do,” the chorus asks “Hippie?” “Caulfield?” “Honey?” “Max?”

 

“I’m just…” Max’s chest bounces with her sobs “Trying to give you the life you deserve!”

 

“That I deserve?” The chorus grows louder “Or you deserve?”

 

“You-ou!” Max cries “You don’t deserve what happened to you! Any of it!”

 

“And what do I deserve...” “Time Warrior?” “SuperMax?” “Hippie?”

 

Max falls forward again, catching herself with both hand balled into fists. “You deserve to be happy, Chloe!” Max bawls, her voice quietly shaking “That’s all I ever wanted.”

 

“With you?” The chorus rings, tones ranging from mocking to wrathful, playful to hopeful.

 

Max’s eyes open, looking at the ground, her tears stopping. “It doesn’t matter…” Max sits back on her heels, looking around her at all the Chloes.

 

“Then what are you afraid of?” they ask “The truth” “The lies” “Failure” “Success”

 

“Being alone.” The voices chime out together.

 

Max brings herself to her feet, the rooms and Chloes spinning around her “I’m not afraid.” she says, “I’m not afraid!” she repeats, shouting.

 

“Then let go.” a pockmocked and gaunt Chloe says, shooting herself up and fading away

 

“Then let go.” a Chloe holding a gun smiles, raising the gun and firing, her own chest beginning to bleed as she fades

 

“Then let go.” a wet and tired Chloe sobs, throwing herself backwards off of a balcony that fades out of sight

 

“Then let go.” says a Chloe leaning against a bathroom door, a bullet wound exploding from her gut. She falls to the ground as her room fades away

 

“Then let go.” a bed bound blonde Chloe says, leaning back and drifting to sleep and fading from sight

 

“Then let go.” shouts another, wind and rain battering her. She looks at her hands and watches herself disintegrate into dust as the storm behind her dissipates.

 

“Then let go.” says another Chloe in a bathroom, covering her mouth and running through the door behind her, the room disappearing into the darkness

 

“Then let go.” a Chloe screams from her seat on the railroad tracks.

 

“NO!” Max screams, raising both fists in front of her chest.

 

The train barrels down the track toward the Chloe and, from her perspective, Max. The train’s whistle sounds, it's brakes screeching, wheels throwing sparks as they slide across the rails. It runs straight through Chloe. Max puts her hand up to rewind as the train bears down on her. At the last instant the train is replaced with a semi-truck in the blink of Max’s eye. In the same blink she realizes for a split second that she’s looking through the passenger window of William’s car from the driver’s seat as the semi-truck crashes into the car.

 

Again Max finds herself drifting through senseless space, robbed of sight, sound, and feeling. The radiating warmth she felt the first time is replaced with a cold, piercing fear in her heart, spreading through her limbs. Max panics as her chest begins to seize, her limbs locking up at her sides, jerking erratically. A burning sensation builds in her throat.

 

Sounds begin to fade into Max’s head. Loud beeps. A woman screaming. People shouting. Max tries to scream, but nothing comes out, her throat burning and feeling full.

 

“She’s seizing!” she picks out a man’s voice

 

“Max!” Vanessa Caulfield’s voice screams bloody murder

 

Max’s eyes shoot open, her body shaking for a few moments before falling limp.

 

“Oh… My God…” Vanessa covers her mouth

 

Max’s eyes scan the room. Around her she sees her mother Vanessa, several doctors, several nurses, and a multitude of medical equipment. Everyone around her seems frozen in shock. Max’s eyes lock onto her mother’s face.

 

Vanessa’s eyes tear up “She’s awake. She’s awake!”

 

“That’s… That’s not possible.” one of the doctors says, walking toward, Max. He pulls a small penlight from his breast pocket, shining it in Max’s eyes.

 

Max squints, shutting the harsh light out.

 

“Max? Can you hear me?” he says “My name is Dr. Moon.” he turns the light off.

 

Max looks Dr. Moon straight in the eye.

 

“If you can hear me, blink once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand, Max?” Moon continues

 

Max blinks once, holding her eyes closed for half a second before opening them again.

 

“Max, I want you to follow my pen with  your eyes, okay?” Dr. Moon holds up his pen and moves it from side to side then up and down.

 

Max’s eyes follow the pen perfectly.

 

“Do you know where you are, Max?” Moon asks her

 

Two blinks.

 

“You’re in a private care facility. It's like a hospital.” he asks

 

Max blinks once.

 

“Do you remember what happened?” he briefly looks to the vital stats monitor before looking back to Max

 

She blinks twice.

 

Dr. Moon’s face becomes conflicted, looking to Vanessa. Vanessa leans forward in her chair next to Max’s bed, taking her hand in hers.

 

“You were in an accident, honey. At Chloe’s house. Do you remember Chloe?” Vanessa asks her daughter

 

Max’s eyes shift to her mother. Having focused, she realizes her mother’s face is more wrinkled that she remembers, a few gray hairs beginning to peek through. Max blinks once.

 

“You were helping Chloe and her dad fix the car…” Vanessa tries to smile through the tears “And… and we don’t know what happened… but the car rolled into the street and… and…”

 

Max feebly squeezes her mother’s hand. She tries to move the rest of her body, finding herself completely immobile.

 

“Dr. Moon! She just squeezed my hand!” Vanessa jumps up

 

“That... shouldn’t be possible.” Dr. Moon says walkink to Max’s side, pressing the muscles in her legs as he moves up the bed. “Can you feel that, Max?”

 

Max’s eyes widen in horror. She blinks twice.

 

_I can’t feel anything except my right hand._

 

“We’ll have to run some more tests.” Moon says to Vanessa, still looking at Max. “Max, do you know what year it is?”

 

Max blinks twice, though she thinks she knows.

 

“It's October 2014. You’ve been in a coma for just over six years. Do you understand?” the doctor asks

 

One blink.

 

Dr. Moon turns to speak to Vanessa whose eyes haven’t left Max’s face since she woke up. “I think we should give her some time to process before we continue.”

 

Max looks at her mother’s face. Though she cannot speak, her eyes plead with her mother, blinking twice.

 

“You want to keep going, Max?” Vanessa bends down

 

One blink.

 

_I need to know everything._

 

Vanessa strokes her daughter's hair, bending down to kiss her forehead. “My daughter is strong, Dr. Moon. If she wants to hear it now, you need to tell her.” she pulls her phone from her bag “I need to call her father.” Vanessa runs her hand down the side of Max’s face “I’ll be right outside, honey. Don’t worry.” She begins dialing as she walks to the room’s door, standing within Max’s view assuringly.

 

“Okay…” Dr. Moon rubs his head “Max, I’m not really sure how to tell you this…” he sighs “When the truck hit you, it severed your spinal cord. Do you understand?”

 

Max blinks.

 

“Technically speaking, you shouldn’t be alive. You _definitely_ shouldn’t be able to feel your hand. I’m not sure why that is. Your neurologist Dr. Outs may be able to tell you more about that. What I know is that your brain doesn’t, or shouldn’t, have any connection to your body. Even now you’re not breathing on your own. If you feel a burning in your throat, that’s the ventilator and feeding tubes.”

 

Max’s eyes search around her, seeing only faint edges of tubes and machines.

 

“I don’t want you to get your or your mother’s hopes up.” Dr. Moon sighs, rubbing his chin. “Realistically, you will never leave this bed. Do you understand what that means?”

 

Max’s eyes fill with tears but she blinks once in confirmation.

 

_What have I done?_

 

Max’s mother walks back into the room taking her seat next to Max. “Your father’s on his way.” she smiles brightly, warmly, leaning in next to Max, taking hold of her hand.

 

Over the next half hour Vanessa continually pours affection onto her daughter. Max, who would normally be embarassed and tell her to stop does her best to use her eyes to communicate her love, squeezing her mother’s hand as best she can with the atrophied muscles. Heavy footsteps echo down the hall. Moments later Ryan Caulfield bursts through the door.

 

“Max!” Ryan’s voice booms as he runs to Max’s side, kneeling next to her mother. Max blinks rapidly as he squeezes her in a hug.

 

“Gentle, Ryan!” Vanessa holds his shoulder

 

Ryan pulls back “Sorry, Max. I just…” he tears up “We missed you so much.”

 

Vanessa explains to her husband that the situation is the same as they knew, but had hoped against. That Max is entirely paralyzed save for her eyes and, mysteriously, her right hand. Ryan takes Max’s hand in his, squeezing it tight.

 

“Good to have you back, kiddo. We missed you. God we missed you.” his burly facade cracks as he begins to cry

 

Late into the night Ryan and Vanessa stay by Max’s side trying to keep her mind stimulated, eventually falling asleep across their daughter.

 

_This must be what Chloe felt like when…_

 

Max closes her eyes, focusing on the feeling of one of her parents hands in hers and drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The sunlight streaming through the window stirs Max from her dreamless slumber. Vanessa sits next to her sipping a coffee. Max notices a TV at the end of the room near the door.

 

“Good morning honey.” Vanessa coos, lightly squeezing Max’s hand. “I was just watching the news. Do you want me to put something else on?”

 

Max blinks twice.

 

Max watches the headlines scroll by searching desperately for any catastrophic news that may have been her doing. She relaxes her hand reflexively after being unable to pick anything out.

 

“You have so much to catch up on, Max.” Vanessa smiles through her tears.

 

They sit in silence, hand in hand, watching the news for some time before a knock comes from the door.

 

“Come in!” Vanessa calls

 

“Hello, Max. Vanessa.” A beautiful young woman in a lab coat walks into the room. “My name is Dr. Alys Goop. Max, I’m your neurologist.”

 

Max looks at her and blinks once.

 

Dr. Goop walks to the side of Max’s bed. “Dr. Moon tells me you have control of your right hand, is this correct?”

 

Max blinks once.

 

“May I?” Goop asks, gesturing to Max’s hand

 

Max blinks again

 

Dr. Goop takes Max’s hand in both of her own gently, feeling the muscles, gauging their autonomous reaction and Max’s reaction. Max grabs her hand eliciting a slight gasp.

 

“This is highly unusual. We’ll get you in for scans right away.” She pats Max’s hand. “We’ll try to figure this out.” She does her best to reassure Max and Vanessa before leaving.

 

Shortly after a nurse comes in. It takes him a long time to hook Max to a mobile ventilator, but eventually she is and the nurse wheels her down the hall to the lab. Her heart races as her limp body is moved around like a ragdoll, lifted from the bed into the brain scanner. After what feels like an eternity, the nurses pull her back out of the scanner, returning her to her bed and soon after her room.

 

Back in her room, Vanessa continues to watch television with Max. When Max gets bored and wants the channel changed, she squeezes Vanessa’s hand. After hours of mundane trash TV, Dr. Goop returns  pushing a mobile computer in front of her.

 

“This is… astonishing… perplexing…” Dr. Goop begins. She brings up images of a brain scan. “Max, this is your brain when you were first admitted about six years ago.”

 

Vanessa leans forward in her seat.

 

“And this…” Goop presses a button on the computer, “Is the scan we took just a couple hours ago.”

 

“They look the same.” Vanessa’s eyes squint, searching for a difference between the pictures

 

“Essentially… they are.” she says “As expected, we’ve seen no neural regeneration.”

 

“Then how did she wake up?” Vanessa’s head swings to look at Max

 

“Frankly, we don’t know. In all honesty, I prefer not to question it. We’ll keep doing tests to see if there have been any other changes, but for now… let’s just be happy she’s awake.” Dr. Goop turns to Max, “You are a very luck young woman.” She pushes the cart to the door. “Oh! I almost forgot to mention. We’ve arranged to bring up a computer to help you communicate. One handed keyboard. It should arrive shortly.”

 

With little option, Max and Vanessa resume watching horribly boring daytime tv. Vanessa briefly leaves early in the afternoon to retrieve lunch from the cafeteria. Max moves her right hand about on the bed beside her, only controlled from the wrist down. She pushes and pulls dragging her arm weakly. She inadvertently knocks the remote from the edge of the bed, it drops to the floor with a plasticy clang.

 

_Fuck… Can I…_

 

Max raises her right hand, bending at the wrist, her head spinning as time reverses course, the remote lifting back through the air onto the bed.

 

_Well… I guess that’s helpful._

 

A short time later, Max’s mother returns, sitting with a tray of food on her lap. Max’s father returns not long after.  
  
Ryan pulls up a chair on the other side of Max, holding her left hand even though Max can’t feel it. She’s more than happy to let him have that small comfort. Ryan and Vanessa do their best to catch Max up on their lives since she fell into her coma. To Max’s dismay, their lives have largely consisted of long bedside vigils, sleepless nights and financial difficulties not unlike those faced by the Prices in another timeline.

 

A nurse wheels in a computer monitor with a short keyboard on a long cord. She brings up a program with a flashing cursor on a white field and proceeds to slide the keyboard under Max’s hand. “Okay. Let’s give her a try.”

 

Max’s hand flails on the keyboard desperately.

 

“CJLOW” appears on the screen, a robotic voice reading it shortly after

 

“Heh…” the nurse stifles a laugh “It's a compact keyboard. It’ll take a little getting used to. Half the letters need a double tap, but I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time.” she points to a diagram taped on the edge of the monitor “Handy dandy cheat sheet.”

 

Max’s fingers dance across the keys again, her eyes darting across the reference sheet.

 

“CHLOE” the robotic voice reads

 

Ryan and Vanessa look at each other nervously.

 

“QUESTION MARK QUESTION MARK QUESTION MARK” the robotic voice announces

 

“Max…” Ryan begins, but trails off.

 

Vanessa holds Max’s hand, “Max… Chloe hasn’t been here in… years…”

 

Max wriggles her hand free, returning to the board.

 

“AWAKE” the robotic voice says “CALL”

 

“Are you _sure_ , Max?”

 

“YES”

 

Vanessa looks nervously to Ryan, who nods. Vanessa pulls out her cellphone and opens her contacts, selecting a number before bringing the phone to her ear.

 

“SPEAK” the mechanical voice reads aloud

 

Vanessa raises a brow at Max quizzically.

 

“ER” the voice speaks again

 

“Oh. Duh.” Vanessa says, holding the phone away from her face and pressing the speaker button

 

“Vanessa?” Joyce Price’s voice comes through the phone clear as day

 

“Hey, Joyce. It's me, Vanessa.” Max’s mother says nervously

 

“I’m here too, Joyce.” Ryan adds

 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Joyce says jovially

 

“Max… Max is awake, Joyce.” Vanessa relays

 

“Oh my good Lord.” Joyce almost shouts

 

“She wants... to see Chloe…” slowly falls out of Ryan’s mouth

 

A long pause ensues.

 

“Joyce?” Vanessa speaks into the phone, unsure whether Joyce was still on the line

 

“I… Yea. Okay. We’ll be up tomorrow, is that okay?” Joyce stammers out

 

“Y-Yea. That’s fine.” Vanessa says quickly

 

_Why are they talking like this? What’s wrong?_

 

“Okay. See you then. Goodbye, Vanessa. Ryan.” Joyce speaks curtly, hanging up the phone

 

“WHAT WRONG” the speakers sound

 

Ryan looks at his wife, then his daughter. “The last time Chloe was here… It was almost four years ago…”

 

“She… didn’t take it well when the doctors said you would never recover.” Vanessa hangs her head

 

“That’s putting it lightly,” Ryan scoffs “She punched the Dr. Salso.”

 

“Let’s just… try to relax before tomorrow, okay?” Vanessa sits back in her chair, smiling as best she can through her apparent nerves

 

“OK” the computer speaks

 

The rest of the day passes agonizingly slow. Max counts down the minutes until she can sleep. Every minute closer to seeing Chloe again. Max’s mother falls asleep across her daughter’s lap as she had become accustomed to. Her father falls asleep leaning back in the stiff hospital chair. Max uses the keyboard controls to lower the volume on the text-to-speech computer and practices her typing until she falls asleep.

 

Max wakes up before her parents, thankful for another dreamless night. She turns the volume back up on her computer. Turning it up even higher, she types.

 

“GOOD MORNING” the robotic voice booms

 

Ryan and Vanessa both shoot from their sleep

 

“Oh shit!” Ryan’s head dips between his knees

 

“SORRY” the computer says at a normal speaking level “COULD NOT RESIST”

 

Ryan gives a soft, almost relieved laugh. “I actually missed that.” he kisses his daughter on the forehead.

 

“MISSED U GUYS TOO” the computer speaks

 

Vanessa pats her daughter on the shoulder, not that Max can feel it. “Just don’t do that again, okay?” she laughs

 

Time again moves at a snail’s pace as the anticipation builds in Max’s chest. Her fingers drum nervously on edge the keyboard. Max grows impatient.

 

“COMING” the computer says

 

“They didn’t cancel, so I think so. I don’t know when, though honey.” Vanessa sighs.

 

“I’m gonna go grab a coffee.” Ryan stands, stretching his large frame out before walking into the hall

 

A few minutes later, the pitter patter of shoes on linoleum tiles fills the air.

 

“I can’t believe she’s awake!” a familiar voice tickles Max’s ears “I told those stupid doctors!”

 

“Slow down, Chloe!” another familiar, older voice calls out “She’s not _going_ anywhere!”

 

Max’s eyes focus on the door as the steps get closer and closer. Suddenly a slender young woman walks through the door. Her strawberry blonde hair, a shaggy inverted bob, dangles on the collar of her red varsity jacket. Max instantly recognizes it as being from Blackwell. Max’s eyes light up as Chloe bobs back and forth in the doorway.

 

“Hello, Chloe. It's nice to see you again…” Vanessa stands, moving toward her

 

Chloe’s eyes slowly widen, taking in the entirety of the machines dedicated to keeping Max alive. “I… I… Oh fuck. I’m sorry!” Chloe backs out of the doorway, running into Ryan and spilling his coffee before running back down the hall.

 

“Chloe!” Joyce shouts

 

Max’s eyes well up as Joyce enters the room.

 

“I’m sorry, Max. I think… I think Chloe got the wrong idea when we told her you were awake.” Joyce bites her lip.

 

“She’ll come around.” Another familiar voice sounds from the hall, a man’s voice this time “She always does.” William smiles strongly as he follows Joyce into the room.

 

Max’s heartrate monitor beeps faster as she lays eyes on William.

 

_I fucking did it. Holy shit._

 

William chuckles “See, hon? I still drive the girls wild.”

 

Joyce rolls her eyes at her husband and walks to Max’s bed. “It's good to see you awake, hon. Didn’t know if you were ever comin’ back to us.”

 

“YOU TOO” the computer’s voice says

 

“What the--?” Joyce jumps a bit

 

“MY VOICE” the computer speaks again

 

“Oh… wow…” Joyce stands stunned for a moment

 

“I’m sure as soon as we tell Chloe that Max is a cyborg she’ll come right back, huh?” quips William, chuckling at his own joke

 

“HA” the computer says “MISSED UR JOKES”

 

William’s jolly facade cracks as he stands next to Max’s bed. “I’m… so sorry, Max. I don’t--”

 

“NO” the robot voice speaks over William “NO SORRY”

 

William forces a smile “Okay, Max.”

 

“TELL ABOUT CHLOE” the computer speaks again

 

“Well… What do you want to know?” Joyce asks Max

 

“SIX YEARS” Max speaks through the electronic voice “EVERYTHING”

 

“That might take a while, kiddo.” William looks at his wife, not entirely sure what to say

 

“HAVE TIME” the speakers crackle

 

“Okay…” Joyce settles into her seat

 

For hours Joyce and William take turns telling Max everything she’s missed in Chloe’s life since her accident. Academic excellence at Blackwell. Learning to drive. Staring in a play. Fixing up her own truck.

 

Max’s eyes light up as she hears tell of Chloe’s life in a stable home supported by two parents and zero step-douches.

 

“And she has the cutest little girlfriend!” Joyce giggles

 

Max’s eyes begin to seep tears as she thinks about how happy Chloe is in this timeline without her.

 

“Max, are you okay?” William sits up in his seat “Should we get your parents or a nurse?”

 

“AM OKAY” the computer says for Max

 

Joyce and William both look at each other nervously.

 

“CHLOE” the computer speaks again. Max’s hand trembles above the keyboard, causing a long pause “HAPPY?”

 

William and Joyce both begin to tear up, smiling through the pain.

 

“Very happy, Max.” William tells her

 

Max’s eyes wander to the bag on Joyce’s lap.

 

“BAG?” the computer says

 

“Oh!” Joyce wipes the tears from her eyes “I thought… you and Chloe might like to…” she trails off, looking out the door waiting for a girl who isn’t there

 

“PHOTO ALBUM?” the electronic voice asks

 

“How did you?” Joyce appears mildly shocked

 

“GOOD GUESS” Max pauses again “ME LOOK?”

 

“Of course, Max.” Joyce pulls the album from her back, opening it across Max’s lap with William holding up the other side so Max can see.

 

Joyce and William flip backwards through the album, pointing out interesting or funny photos. After a certain point Max tunes out Joyce and focuses on William’s stories, having heard Joyce’s not so long ago. As they near the beginning of the album Max begins seeing pictures older than she ever remembered being in.

 

“STOP” Max makes the computer say

 

“What is it, Max?” Joyce asks, concerned

 

“LEFT” the computer speaks again “TOP”

 

“This is… Oh wow. You must have taken this one, William.” Joyce pulls the photo from the album, handing it to William

 

“I remember this. That beautiful day at the park. I remember taking Chloe home that day. She wouldn’t stop talking about her new best friend.” William smiles, forcing a chuckle that doesn’t quite mask the pain

 

“CLOSER”

 

He holds it up around a foot from Max’s face. “Like this?”

 

“YES HOLD STEADY”

 

William holds his hand as steady as he can as Max focuses on the picture. Max stares through bleary eyes, beginning to hear the wind rustling through the trees and a precocious girl’s joyous laughter. Everything except the picture distorts, bending and tearing grotesquely. The heart rate monitor ramps up faster and faster until Max can no longer hear it.

 

_I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not--_

 

Max’s thought is cut short as she wills herself into the past through the photograph.

 

* * *

 

Six year old Max Caulfield sits under the shade of an old, bent oak tree. A girl no older than seven walks up to her. Her shoulder length blonde hair and Jolly Roger t-shirt blow in the breeze.

 

"Do you want to play?" the girl asks

 

Max shudders back to consciousness in her six year old body. The girl waves her hand in front of Max's face.

 

"Hellooo? Anybody home?"

 

"Leave me alone." Max squeaks, her head drooping to hide her eyes.

 

"C'mon we can play pirates! I'll even let you be captain!"

 

Max's hands ball into fists "Go. Away."

 

The girl stutters, taken aback, "I-I just saw you here all al-alone. I-I thought you might need a frie-"

 

"Are you deaf?" Max cuts her off "Leave me alone! If you don't..." Max trembles trying to hold her arms back from hugging the blond haired would-be pirate, "I'll hurt you. I'll hurt your mommy and your daddy and Bongo!" Max crosses her arms and turns away, moments from a full blown meltdown.

 

The girl pauses for a moment, her eyes welling as she processes what she just heard. She turns tail wailing and runs back to her parents. Max drops, hugging her knees as they slam into her chest, the sickly orange bubble of time reforming itself like a developing photograph.

 

Max's eyes shoot open in a panic. Her heart races as she looks around her room. _Her_ room. Her room at her parent's house in Seattle. She looks around her room daintily as if she were snooping in a stranger's house. Any sign of Chloe she remembered from the original timeline is gone. There are photographs of people she doesn't remember. She's sure she'll find their names eventually. She sits down on the bed and picks up her phone.

 

"Saturday, October 18th, 2014" she reads aloud to herself. One year and one week after the mother of all storms may or may not have wiped Arcadia Bay off the map. She dials the number she knows to be the Price house in Arcadia Bay.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Chloe?" Max asks

 

The pause lasts a few seconds but to Max it feels like an eternity.

 

"Who is this?"

 

Max freezes and drops the phone onto the bed. The voice on the phone rages through the speaker loud enough for Max to hear from three feet away.

 

"Hey asshole! Do you think it's funny to coldcall people and freak them out? it's not! It's fucking lame!" The receiver slams down with a loud plastic-y crash. Max curls into a ball on top on the covers, sobbing.

 

_I did it. I saved us._

 

* * *

 

Max puts on a brave face and does her best to adjust to this new reality she carved for herself; for Chloe. One day, a piece of mail bearing the Blackwell insignia arrives. Max's father plops it down in front of her at the table.

 

“Maybe it’s good news,” he says jovially

 

“Doubt it” Max replies, sullen. She had been doing her best to forget her memories of Blackwell.

 

Max tears open the envelope, reading the letter to herself. Ryan looks on almost expectantly.

 

_Dear Ms. Caulfield,_

_As principal, it is my duty to inform you on behalf of the Committee of Admissions that we were unable to find placement for you in this semester's classes. Though your academic record is satisfactory and your artistic portfolio shows great promise, your letter of intent was, for lack of a better word, lacking. Enclosed, please find a copy of said letter._

_It is with a heavy heart that I inform you that for the second year in a row that our admission applications exceeded our maximum student capacity and as such difficult roster decisions had to be made. We do hope that you will find success elsewhere, both academically and artistically._

_Regretfully, Principal Wells_

 

Max begins to cry, handing the letter to her father.

 

Ryan put down the letter and sighed, rubbing his brow “Jeeze. I'm really sorry, kiddo.”

 

_I'm never going to Blackwell. I'm never going back to Arcadia Bay._

 

Max clenches her fists and slams them onto her thighs for a moment, holding back the impending explosion of frustration and soul rending sadness.

 

Ryan huddles over his daughter and wraps her in a big bear hug. “I know it hurts. It’s not fair. I know.”

 

Max sobbed, holding her father's arms.

 

_If he could only even begin to understand why I'm crying. Why I'm being torn apart inside._

 

Ryan lets go and kneels down on one knee next to his daughter. He puts one hand on her shoulder, the other resting on her lap, rubbing where she punched herself. “Can I tell you something my dad told me when I was your age?”

 

Max looks at him through bleary eyes. Ryan's own are starting to well.

 

“He said... 'Son. I know it's hard to understand now,’” Ryan choked on his words “‘But sometimes even if you want something real bad, you shouldn't have it.’”

 

Max collapses into Ryan, sobbing and open hands beating on his chest. He wraps her in the tightest hug he can muster letting her take all the rage and pain out in the only way she can.

 

* * *

 

Max Caulfield pushes through the double glass doors that house the Seattle Art Museum. She breathes deeply the fresh, if not somewhat smoggy, urban air. She's pleased that nobody recognizes her, or cares to, though her face is plastered on a 'Featured Artist Fall 2018' poster next to the entrance. She's even more pleased that she accomplished this without any help from the time manipulating power that faded years ago. Though she prefers to keep her hair shoulder length, it has grown shaggy during her recent tour on the museum circuit. She steps out into the crowd of pedestrians shuffling this way and that.

 

As she walks through the crowd, Max takes in the sights and sounds of the city. They're all so familiar, but so new from this fresh perspective. Her phone rings. She talks as she continues to weave through the crowd.

 

“I can’t wait to see you in Toronto. Yeah. Yeah! Haha no the poutine is just a bonus. Mhmm. Everybody’s going to love your premier. Your paintings are to _die_ for. Okay. Talk to you soon...”

 

A woman with chin-length hazel hair barely misses running into Max, juking at the last possible second. Max turns and watches the woman jog up the museum stairs and turn around, grinning widely as she looks out over the crowd.

 

“Goodbye” Max says breathlessly, putting her phone away.

 

“Slow down, Chloe!” A familiar voice calls out. “The museum isn’t going anywhere!” A man passes by Max just as she turns to the voice. Only slightly more worn looking than she remembers, she would still recognize William Price anywhere.

 

“Has that ever worked?” Joyce asks her husband, walking beside him.

 

William chuckles heartily with a smile. “Not even when she was a kid.”

 

Max stands there stunned, watching Joyce walk up the stairs to meet Chloe before they go into the museum together.

 

"Max Caulfield." William's voice lands warmly on Max's ears. "Still in hanging around after taking Seattle by storm."

 

Max turns to William, her eyes wide. She blinks away the tears. _"I never thought I'd see you again,"_ she thinks.

 

William laughs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. My daughter, Chloe, is your biggest fan."

 

Max blinks, her brain in a tizzy. "She is?"

 

"Yes indeedy," William smiles. "She'd love to meet you," he tells her, craning his neck looking for his daughter.

 

Max's face begins to burn in a way she hadn't felt for years now.

 

"Darn, I think she already went in," William says, pulling a pen from his pocket. "I'd hate to keep you, but do you think I could trouble you for an autograph?"

 

"I'll do you one better," she tells him, reaching for her bag. She pulls out an old Polaroid camera. Well worn and well loved. She aims it at herself and takes a selfie, signing the back. "You'll make sure she gets this?" Max asks, handing him the picture.

 

"Absolutely," William says looking down at the picture. By the time he looks up Max has already disappeared into the crowd. He flips the picture over and reads Max's message.

 

_To Chloe:_

_Love Max_

_555 - 206 - 8314_

 

**_~FIN~_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end. (For now?) I'd like to thank each of you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it. See you next time in Arcadia Bay!
> 
> Additional note made 9/9/18: The ending of this story has continued to go through revisions ever since it was published. Originally there were two endings, one similar to this and an arguably happier one. The first ending was much akin to this one, though this ending is what I always envisioned instead of the rushed ending I attached when first publishing. The second ending, arguably happier, had connotation of Amberprice or even Amberpricefield which was not my intention. As such, the ending as of this update, the Museum Ending, is the final ending to Best Intentions.


End file.
